


your voice

by Misila



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood and Injury, Demigods, M/M, Magical Realism, Mental Health Issues, Minor SouGou, Physical Disability, Romance, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 15:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 47,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14980535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misila/pseuds/Misila
Summary: Seventeen years ago, a nightmare slit Haruka's throat.Deep down, he has always known it would come back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariuko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariuko/gifts).



> Hey! It's me, the prodigal daughter returning to _Free!_ because I'll never stop loving the swimming idiots.
> 
> When I had the idea for this fic, I wanted to give it to Farah, for her birthday. I still want to (I _AM_ ), but the issue here is I supposed it would be an one-shot, around 8k words-long at most. It seems I take my slow-burns very seriously, because the final result is over 40k words-long and posting all of it as an one-shot seemed kind of inappropriate. While I'm at it, I want to thank María for cheering me up and listening to my rambling for a whole month.
> 
> Anyway, Farah, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> PS: Yes, all those tags apply.

 

 

 

 

Fate is a strange thing.

The future changes, constantly: with the most innocent actions, due to seemingly silly decisions, through determination and hard work. Nothing is set in stone, they say.

And yet…

That is not a lie; but it is not a complete truth, either.

In the pointless web of wisdom and mistakes we call life, there are a few events which are inescapable, the ones that shape our perspective of a shared reality the most. Perhaps they are not written in stone, but drawn on the halo of the stars.

Encounters that turn our insides upside down.

Choices we are destined to make.

Places we were born to visit, to learn, to love.

And the most wonderful, rare occurrence: lives intertwined in the strangest of ways, existences which cannot completely blossom apart from each other― people whose relationship itself can become a masterpiece and a catastrophe, all and none at once.

Connected by the devastating, unbreakable bond we call fate.

 

 

 

 

 

Nanase Haruka was born the last day of June.

He was to die seven months later, the second of February, during the second birth of a terribly extraordinary creature. In an entirely inappropriate place to bring a child― at least he was cradled by his mother’s cold arms when a nightmare silenced him once and for all.

He didn’t cry. There was blood in his lungs and a lethal smile drawn across his throat, from side to side. All the noise he could make was the splashing of tiny arms on the puddle of his and his mother’s blood, confused and scared at the life leaving him too soon.

But Haruka was too young to understand death.

Babies have the habit not to understand anything. Not even endings.

So he lived.

He lived through the demigod’s crimson rage as it escaped its confinement. His heart kept beating against the lack of air when the emergency services made it to a room filled with the corpses of a dozen scientists and hunters. He survived the trip to the hospital, and the surgeries, and the first night next to his inconsolable father.

From then on, it became routine.

 

 

 

 

 

Unlike him, Haruka’s voice did die.

Irreparable damage to his vocal cords was the explanation he grew up with. Often paired up with pitying glances and too loud attempts at faking sympathy― as if his hearing was anything other than _perfectly fine_.

But for him it never felt like a tragedy, because Haruka had never learnt to speak in the first place― it was a bother, not a loss.

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka was taught how to speak to other people in three ways.

He learnt the first one half by himself, half thanks to a private tutor that climbed the stone steps to his grandmother’s house three times per week. Amakata-sensei taught him to speak with his hands, taught his grandmother –and sometimes the neighbours’ son– to understand him. Makoto would often tell their classmates about random signs that stayed with him; the children distorted the gestures until they were unrecognisable and for half a school year they invented a new variant of _shuwa_ that not even Haruka could keep up with.

Writing, the second type of communication Haruka was introduced to, felt underwhelming for the simple reason everyone else could. But it was useful, for most people in Iwatobi weren’t familiar with sign language.

The third one was tricky. Quicker than writing, more effective than _shuwa_ ; but also invasive and hard to control. His grandmother was the only person Haruka knew who could use it; and, because she was his favourite person in his little world, he wanted to be like her.

So his grandmother taught him how to speak with his mind.

 

 

 

 

 

In all that time, Haruka never forgot about the monster.

He couldn’t exactly remember it, but his nightmares were often made of red eyes and sharp-toothed mouths that grinned before eating him whole. In the never-changing fishing village he grew up in there was nothing else capable of upsetting him to the point he would lock himself up in the bathroom and submerge in lukewarm water to his chin, lashing out at anyone who dared to walk into his vulnerability.

The certainty that the demigod that had killed his mother would one day come back had always been there, but as Haruka gingerly made his way through adolescence he became antsy— there was nothing he wanted more than to forget about the monster, the nightmares and the scar in his throat, but he wouldn’t be able to until the moment it arrived; and the longer it was delayed, the more uneasy he grew.

 

 

 

 

 

It took the monster seventeen years.

And, like it often happens with these things, Haruka didn’t see it coming.

 

 

 

 

 

It was on the first day of summer break.

Truth be told, Haruka hadn’t planned to spend the morning weeding out his grandmother’s garden, but he already knew better than to stay in bed worrying over what the woman liked to call _pointless concerns_ ― the kind that were about things that had yet to happen. His excessive dedication gave him a sunburn that spread over his shoulders and down his back, which led to the woman nearly kicking him towards the beach after lunch, for she knew better than anyone else that swimming would be the most effective way to soothe both his skin and his heart.

Haruka didn’t call Makoto. His best friend had never liked the sea, but he was often unable to not go along with Haruka’s plans. So he threw a towel over his irritated shoulder, the stinging making him wince in spite of the t-shirt protecting it, and headed towards the shore, relieved when he found the beach nearly empty; there was only one person in the water.

The stranger caught Haruka’s attention instantly. Rather than swimming, they seemed to cut through the waves, as if forcing it to make way for their strokes. Even from the distance, Haruka could see they were fast.

He was hopping on the rocks at the feet of the cliff before ordering his legs to, heading for the tip of the black stone that stood up against the relentless waves. Just because there were fewer chances of people approaching him there, he told himself.

Haruka had made the same way endless times, but he was still careful not to slip as he watched the swimmer get closer to the cliff; he halted, though, when the figure in the water stopped, feeling a pair of eyes on him in spite of the at least fifty metres between the two of them.

“You want to swim?” The voice was deep, masculine. “You shouldn’t run on the rocks.”

And he laughed, and it rang taunting but not ill-intentioned.

«I won’t fall», Haruka automatically signed― then he realised, once again, that not many people knew sign language, much less in Iwatobi.

But his arms fell to his sides when the man resumed swimming towards him, his features growing clearer with every stroke.

The stranger looked around Haruka’s age― paler, with red hair long enough to tickle his shoulders sticking to his face to frame a smile made of pointed teeth. His eyes glowed under the summer sun, fierce and crimson.

Ageless, deeper than the abyss inside the mouth Haruka often dreamt of. Too overwhelming to look at them, to bewitching to escape their gaze.

Eyes that had plagued Haruka’s nightmares since he could remember.

“What’s wrong?” The demigod grew closer, tilting his head to the side. “Just now, you―…”

But he trailed off, and it wasn’t until Haruka followed the direction he twisted his neck to look at that he understood.

At the base of the cliff, where sand merged with stone, there were at least seven people― all of them dressed in dark blue, armed with silvery guns, making a line to step along the way Haruka had walked along without giving it much thought.

Hunters.

“You bastard…”

The demigod moved too quickly for Haruka to see more than a shadow piercing the air; the next thing he knew was there was a hand around his neck and a growl rumbling close to his ear― that he was right in the hunters’ path if they intended to shoot at the demigod.

“You bastard!” the boy hissed again, nails digging into Haruka’s throat when he struggled in a hopeless attempt to free himself. “Why is it always like this…?”

Had he been able to, Haruka would have let out a cry. The rock disappeared from under his feet, wind whistling in his ears as he was lifted up into the air, the hunters and the cliff and the beach growing smaller. The towel he had brought was slowly sinking between the waves; there was something black wrapped around Haruka’s waist, keeping him from falling into the sea.

Haruka lost all will to fight back when he touched it and it felt _liquid_ ― and perhaps it wasn’t, perhaps it was just the closest state to what it actually was but the demigod couldn’t manifest it in the plane of reality Haruka inhabited.

He glanced up, saw darkness blocking the sunlight as the demigod stopped ascending and headed offshore.

 

 

 

 

 

The island stood on black legs bathed by a sea where summer had yet to arrive, a hollow spider with grottoes dug inside its belly― caves where, illuminated by the sunset, other abominations might live in as well. The lifeless monster was even shaped like an arachnid, with a small, shrubby head connected by a narrow neck to a taller, greener section where its organs should have been; dark cliffs kept most of its perimeter at a prudential height so as to protect it from the relentless waves.

For a nightmare, it was colossal. But it was a fairly small island― more than enough for only one inhabitant, though: the only building, at the edge of the forest, had too big a garden.

Haruka was gracelessly dropped at the entrance of the hut as soon as he was at the adequate height not to die from the fall; before he could as much as struggle to move in spite of the sharp pain shooting up his knees, though, a hand that felt more like a claw closed around his throat again, its owner pinning him to the ground with a furious glare and a feral snarl.

“You had it planned, didn’t you?” Haruka shook his head, hands flying to the other’s arm when the grip around his neck tightened; his sunburnt back stung beneath his weight, but he couldn’t have cared less. “Don’t you dare to lie to me! Of course you did…” The demigod snorted at the bursts of magic escaping Haruka’s fingertips, able only to redden his skin. “You pathetic humans, teaming up with you filthy tricks― that’s all you can do!”

The dying sun set the sky on fire, but Haruka couldn’t appreciate it. Dark blotches were quickly appearing in the corners of his vision, eating away at the spectacle when he kept stubbornly shaking his head.

The boy on top of him –more beast than human, with hair and eyes made of blood– wanted answers. Haruka had read enough on demigods to know he could kill a human effortlessly, that he was one of the most unstable creatures on the planet― and there was only one way to speak to him.

The one he didn’t want to use.

For trained telepaths, seeking other people’s consciousness was as easy as looking around; but even if Haruka hadn’t been one, the demigod’s would have been impossible to miss: an electrifying, overwhelming aura that exceeded anything any human would ever be able to achieve.

A bottomless, hungry abyss ready to swallow him whole as soon as he spoke.

The second Haruka dove in, the pit was inside his own head, a cacophony of _can’t_ and _don’t_ and inarticulate screams that expanded and ate away at his own mind, raging against its decaying restraints.

 

_Stop―_

 

But the noise only grew louder, _louder_ , **_louder_** , trying to break past the boundaries of sanity―

 

_Stop!_

 

…and Haruka didn’t know whether he had ever had any idea of what he wanted to say, but he only screamed fear and pain as he pushed all of it as far from him as he could.

 

_Stop this._

 

The next thing he was aware of was the weight suffocating him had disappeared; Haruka blinked at the darkening sky, struggled to sit up and rubbed at his sore throat.

The demigod sat a couple of metres away, the heel of his hands pressed against his eyes― blood dribbled down from an irregular cut in his left wrist, and Haruka supposed he was partially responsible for that.

When the boy lowered his arms, though, there was something new in his expression.

Bewilderment.

“What did you just do?!” he demanded to know; Haruka had no idea whether he was talking about the wound or… “Stop playing dumb, you fucking―”

But he trailed off, eyes widening when Haruka brought his index to his chin.

“You can’t…”

Haruka halted mid-sign, realising he had resorted to it on instinct. His hands still shook and his head hurt as if it had just been split open.

But the demigod was still staring at him, mouth agape.

_Does he actually know…?_

“You can’t speak, right?”

Haruka’s shoulders lurched forward, as though protecting him from the blow when the boy in front of him slid a finger across his own throat, so as to point out his scar; and even though demigods weren’t humans for a second he could swear he saw sympathy in the stranger’s eyes.

It must have been his imagination.

“Well, it’s not like it changes anything,” the demigod grunted, standing up. “Your friends won’t attack me as long as I can kill you, so better get used to living here.”

 

 

 

 

 

Most people did not get telepathy right.

Non-telepaths, as well the few remaining people without an ounce of magic in their veins, often assumed it was like an arrow with a concise message attached.

Haruka had learnt at a young age that was not true. It was impossible to do that, actually― to speak in someone’s mind, it was necessary to dive into it first, the way one needed to listen before intervening in a verbal conversation; and it took years of training to be able to transmit something concrete. With practice, it was possible to have some control on what one let in, as well as what one let _out_ ; but strong emotions, be it one’s own or someone else’s, were the hardest to keep in one place― and trying to supress them only worked for so long.

Haruka didn’t try to speak to the demigod again. The sky was completely black by the time hunger made its way through nausea, stars lonely without the moon, and by then the demigod was long gone, not before forcing a thick silvery bracelet around his hostage’s wrist and advising him not to try to escape.

“We’re too far from the continent to leave swimming,” had been his words before heading into the forest.

And that had been all.

Haruka had lost track of time as he lay on the grass at the entrance of the demigod’s home, staring at the starry sky as if it were going to tell him a way to escape. It had taken them hours to reach the island, and he couldn’t find neither his grandmother nor Makoto’s presence― whether it was due to the distance or the demigod’s powerful essence had something to do, Haruka didn’t know.

He supposed he should be scared.

_Shouldn’t I?_

After the nightmares engraved in the back of his eyelids, after countless attempts at drawing the monster as if he could get it out of his memory that way and the foreboding feeling that had accompanied Haruka for years, he felt...

Relieved.

Regardless of what happened now, Haruka wouldn’t have to wait for the demigod to come back anymore.

Besides, the hunters had been too scared of hurting him to shoot the demigod.

Which probably meant Haruka was safe, at least for now.

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka supposed his blink had lasted more than intended when he opened his eyes to a cold breeze and stars that had moved from the position he remembered. What had roused him weren’t the shivers running down his spine, though; he squinted at the two bright spots hovering over him, realising only after a couple of seconds they were the demigod’s eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep here, you’re not a dog,” he was grumbling; Haruka flinched at the flame that appeared in his hand, which he cradled as if it couldn’t burn him. “Here.”

Haruka sat up, extended his hands to take a notebook with one of those pencils with an eraser attached to its end trapped in the spring keeping the spine together. Then he glanced back up at the cat-like eyes looking at him.

“Now you’re going to write there what your friends’ plans are,” the demigod instructed. “And maybe your name.”

Perhaps a different reaction would have pleased his kidnapper, but Haruka only rolled his eyes.

 **I don’t know** , he scribbled on the first page, showing it to the demigod with a glare.

“You don’t know your _name_?”

He sounded like he was seriously considering Haruka was stupid. Which was rich, coming from the one who had kidnapped him on the spot. Haruka nearly cut through the paper as he wrote down a single word:

 **Plans**.

“ _Sure_. You mean to tell me I get caught the first time in months I try to interact with humans and― what?”

«You shouldn’t go near humans to―» Haruka let his arms fall before finishing his sentence, realising too late it was useless; but the demigod picked up on the anger in his gestures.

Haruka took a deep breath to put his thoughts in order.

 **I don’t know** , he wrote again. **I just wanted to swim** _._

The demigod snorted.

“Whatever you say. What’s your name?”

 **Not your business**.

Red eyebrows arched, slightly impressed.

“You’re an asshole, you know that, right?”

«You _kidnapped_ me», Haruka signed on instinct, nearly baring his teeth. And the demigod might have no idea of sign language, but judging by his widened eyes he got the gist.

He sighed.

“I’m already regretting it, don’t worry,” he assured. “Anyway, I’m Rin. And you’ll go by Human until you stop being a dick.”

Haruka didn’t change his expression.

“Now get inside,” the demigod ordered, standing up. “You’re insufferable enough without getting sick.

“And take off your shoes before entering!”

As he stood up to follow Rin, Haruka considered making a gesture he was pretty sure was universally understood.

 

 

 

 

 

Rin’s home hardly met the bare minimum to be considered a _house_. Roof, walls, windows, doors, a couple of cupboards, a chest and a fireplace that could be used to cook next to a table and a couple of splintered chairs. There was only one bed; the demigod gave Haruka a couple of blankets and pointed at the wooden floor, as if he hadn’t properly got his point across yet.

Haruka lost the battle against sleep right before dawn; by the time he awoke sunlight poured into the room and Rin wasn’t there.

 _Good_.

Haruka had a loose idea of how the bracelet he couldn’t take off worked, since he had read about similar ones which were compulsory in jails to avoid prisoners trying to use their magic to attack the guards; but he didn’t know what kind of actions were off-limits. He supposed he should have asked Rin the night prior, but he doubted the demigod would have told him, at least without Haruka giving in first and telling him his name.

Which he refused to.

Haruka gingerly lit the tip of his index, breathed out in relief when no electric shock or unbearable pain came. He liked being able to use magic, thank you very much.

Soon he had more urgent matters in mind; namely, his stomach’s increasingly loud rumbling.

It had been nearly a whole day since Haruka had eaten, so he headed out of the bedroom and towards the room that worked as both a kitchen and a dining room.

There were two cupboards leaning up against the wall opposite the fireplace; Haruka found the inside of one of them completely frozen, preserving what looked like ten different kinds of meat. The other one, though, had glass bottles full of water and fruit in it, and Haruka took a second to wonder which one could be Rin’s favourite before settling for picking one of each and eating them before walking out of the hut.

Clouds were gathering around the highest point of the island, the mountain crowning the larger part of it trapped among greying cotton where the seagulls’ screeches echoed. Haruka wandered into the forest just enough to use the toilet, since the hut didn’t have one, but he quickly headed for where the shoreline seemed the closest to the sea, even though from what he had witnessed the afternoon prior there were no proper beaches in the island.

Among the birds and the waves there was a noise whose nature Haruka couldn’t pinpoint— he only knew it didn’t come from the island and it reminded him too much of gunshots not to feel uneasy. Before he could as much as deciding to explore and heading down what seemed like a path Rin might have taken a few times, though, a screech that was too high to belong to a seagull caught Haruka’s attention.

He turned around, tensed up when he spotted something moving in a shrub― when the animal finally emerged, wings spread open, his palms were glowing with hardly contained magic; but Haruka’s tension dissolved upon noticing its bright scales glowing iridescent under the cloudy day.

It wasn’t the first time Haruka saw a dragon. They were well represented all around the world, actually. However, they were scarce in Japan, where the laws to protect them had come into effect when the populations were critically endangered; Haruka had never seen one outside zoos― much less a pygmy dragon, which would most likely never grow taller than one metre.

The dragon flapped its wings even after landing, spat a flame that didn’t reach much further beyond its forked tongue; it reminded Haruka of a dog, though, its long tail swishing from side to side as it took small steps towards the stranger that had an arm cautiously extended towards it.

Under the reflection of flashy colours that made the dragon the most lively thing in the island, its scales were black, as well as the horns twisted backwards; one of them lacked the tip, though, and as Haruka crouched down so as not to scare it he wondered if it had lost it in a fight or it had been a poacher.

He couldn’t help but smile when the reptile butted its head against his palm, snuggling against his hand with its yellow eyes closed.

Haruka didn’t get to speak to non-human animals often. He had read their minds were a challenge, but he liked their lack of restraint: it made every emotion they felt ten times more powerful, but in Haruka’s opinion humans, in their attempts to control their feelings, only made their head a hostile environment.

It was odd, how Rin’s mind reminded Haruka of both an animal and the most inflexible human on existence, when half the demigod’s essence didn’t even belong to the same plane of reality they inhabited.

[ _Hi_ ], Haruka eventually greeted.

He felt the dragon’s surprise; it croaked out a confused noise as its eyes widened, but soon it resumed rubbing the crown of protruding scales around its forehead against Haruka’s hand, waging its tail with renewed vigour. Haruka reached out with his free hand, tentatively scratching its neck; to his surprise, he found a barely perceptible vibration running beneath its scales.

_Can dragons purr?_

“I’m not healing you when he bites your head off.”

Haruka flinched at the voice, turned around to find Rin approaching him and the dragon― he was barefoot, dressed in black; his ankles peeked under loose trousers and a half-buttoned shirt, his scowl hopping between his hostage and the dragon. Haruka couldn’t help the satisfaction when his frown dissolved, expression growing puzzled.

“Ah, well,” he eventually muttered, huffing out something that sounded partly like a bark. “He’s never liked a respectable person in his life, _so_.”

Haruka lowered his hand to keep petting the dragon after its head bumped his leg, ignoring the jibe. Something about Rin’s folded arms set him on edge― well, more than the amount his situation in general did. He pointed at the reptile with his chin, glanced at the demigod eloquently.

“You’re curious about his name?” Haruka resisted the urge to nod, but Rin’s gaze was already growing malicious. “How about we trade?”

Haruka narrowed his eyes.

He had spent his whole life dreading the demigod’s return, so he had never really thought about how he would be— all he knew about that being was it had eyes made of blood and fed on shadows; but he hadn’t expected a teenager less imposing than Makoto –in his human form, at least– with the maturity of a five year-old.

His fingers itched with the need to pose a question he would be glad Rin couldn’t understand in case he signed it.

“Come on! It’s fair, isn’t it?” Rin insisted. “His name for yours. And you already know mine.”

After a few seconds, Haruka nodded. He supposed he could relent, just this once.

«Nanase Haruka».

He spelt his name as fast as he could, satisfied hen Rin’s smugness morphed into confusion, and then indignation.

“Hey, that’s not fair! I can’t…” He tried to imitate Haruka. “For all I know you could have just made those signs up.”

Haruka shook his head, then pointed at the dragon again.

“Do it again!” Haruka kept his expression firm as he repeated his name; this time, Rin got _na_ and _ru_ alright. “I bet there are books on sign language everywhere, so don’t act so satisfied,” he grunted, and there was something comical to his pout. “Anyway...

“Winnie.” The dragon straightened up his neck, leapt towards Rin and clung to his shoulder. “This is...” He tried to reproduce Haruka’s name― this time he managed to spell _Haru_.

And for a second, the dragon’s name didn’t matter.

In that cloudy day, something about the clumsy movements of Rin’s fingers felt warm.

“And...” The demigod repeated the two signs, glancing back at Haruka. “This is Winnie… What’s wrong?”

Haruka forced himself to close his mouth, shook his head.

“I hope you two get along,” Rin finished his introduction, shrugging Winnie off him; the dragon landed on the ground as the demigod spun on his heels and headed back towards the hut.

Haruka hesitated for a second― but he had questions he supposed Rin would have no problem answering, and the only effective way to communicate with the demigod was in the building. Haruka headed to the bedroom to fetch the notebook and the pencil, wrote the most important question he had as he walked towards the living room, simultaneously looking up and turning the notebook around so that Rin could see.

**What does the bracelet do?**

Rin was munching on a pear; he growled at Winnie, who had followed him too, when the dragon leapt forward in an attempt to take a bit.

“Ah, that.” He tore off nearly half the fruit, took his time to chew on it, apparently just to test Haruka’s patience. “Nothing you should worry about. You can go anywhere in the island, and I don’t care if you use magic. I wouldn’t try to get away if I were you, though.” He held what was left of the pear above Winnie, watched as the dragon jumped to swallow it whole. “But it seems Winnie likes you…” He trailed off when Haruka started writing on the notebook again. “You ask too much and answer too little, Human.”

Haruka huffed as he showed Rin the page.

**Are there more people here?**

“If ‘people’ means ‘humans’, then you’re the only one, but they are.” The demigod tucked a red lock behind his ear, passed Haruka on his way towards the entrance. “But they don’t like purebred humans.

“Now stay playing with Winnie and behave while I’m out.”

He halted for a second longer than necessary as he opened the door, shoulders rising as if he were to add something; only a barely audible sigh came out between his lips, though, before he walked out of the hut.

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka had no idea where Rin went off to for the whole afternoon; his plans to explore the island were crushed by Winnie’s desire to play, though. The poor dragon’s overexcitement was probably due to Rin never spending time with him, and Haruka’s inability to refuse when he brought him a stick to play fetch didn’t help.

In spite of Rin’s veiled warning, he wanted to talk to as many beings capable of holding a conversation as he could; there must be a way to escape the island, to break free from the demigod― he might try to be friendly, act like a capricious child at times and have a pet dragon, but he was still one of the most dangerous creatures in the planet, and the only reason he was keeping Haruka alive was he would be useful in case hunters found that island in the middle of nowhere.

By the time Winnie got tired of flying to fetch the stick Haruka lazily levitated, though, the promised rain finally came― the dragon tried to strike down the droplets of water before giving up and following Haruka inside, dragging his wings.

Haruka spent the rest of the afternoon by the fireplace, doodling on his notebook and making pauses to feed the fire with the wood piled up in a corner. For his part, Winnie curled up in the hearth, flames licking at its iridescent scales, the light reflecting on the walls.

They both fell asleep before Rin came back.

 

 

 

 

 

In spite of the blanket he had brought next to the fireplace with him, Haruka’s limbs felt stiff from the humid air when he awoke next morning, lids glued together from sleep as he heard steps not too far away. He rubbed at his eyes, opened them just in time to see Rin heading out.

By the time Haruka managed to make some noise, though, the demigod had already closed the door behind him.

Quite violently.

_Idiot._

Half-covered in embers, Winnie jolted up at the slam, whined when he hit his head; scratching the lonely hairs in his chin that were supposed to be a stubble, Haruka automatically petted him with his other hand, not caring about the soot painting his palm black.

He wasn’t sure what had woken him up –the sun wasn’t even completely out yet–; but he doubted it had been Rin. The demigod was silent and stealthy and knew how to move without making a sound; Haruka remembered then how he swam, barely splashing around. It seemed he carried his cat-like gracefulness everywhere.

That didn’t answer the question of where he had gone or why he had ignored Haruka, but it didn’t really matter.

At some point during the night it had stopped raining. The morning dew softened the aggressive smell of saltpetre, clung to the grass and shrubs and made them slippery; but after the downpour there were no clouds in the sky, which meant Haruka had time to explore the island and, hopefully, to find the other inhabitants Rin had talked about.

He shivered at the cold as soon as he stepped out of the hut; Haruka was still wearing only his swimsuit and a t-shirt, and he didn’t want to steal clothes from the chest at the feet of Rin’s bed― and asking the demigod was out of the question. Kind of like shaving; but that wasn’t a necessity as much as it was a bother, and he could always sharpen one of the knives in the cupboard.

After all, Haruka was kidnapped, not on holidays.

…And cold.

At least he had shoes.

He steeled himself and headed down the path he had started the day prior, now with a pygmy dragon perched on his shoulder and the notebook in his hand. He picked up on the gunshot-like noises the wind brought, but he wasn’t any closer to know what could be causing them than the day prior.

The more he approached the coast, the more convinced Haruka was that sailing away would be impossible. The sea was rough and angry, waves louder than usual as they hit against the black cliffs, whistling when they intertwined with the wind to invade the caves between the island’s legs. Even the lowest part of the coast was still two metres above the sea; and Haruka considered himself a good swimmer, but he wasn’t enough of an idiot to dive among such violent waves, not even to launch a hypothetical boat.

And flying for longer than ten seconds was out of his reach― physics were heavier than magic.

Frustrated, Haruka kicked a rock towards the edge of the cliff, took a step forward to see the hungry sea swallow it.

Rin wasn’t as stupid as he had thought. _He_ was the only way out, which was probably the reason he hadn’t outright shackled Haruka to the thickest tree in the forest and allowed him to have a fabricated freedom.

Once more, Haruka looked for his grandmother’s consciousness, for Makoto’s; but they were too far away to be reached.

It was lonely, being truly by himself.

Haruka huffed when Winnie rubbed his head against him, wanting to be petted again. He pushed the dragon aside, looking around in search of something he might have missed in spite of Winnie’s increasingly impatient squeals.

[ _Not now._ ]

But the dragon was fluttering around Haruka, ignoring his bad mood. At times he would lash towards him, trying to bite him playfully –or so Haruka hoped.

It wasn’t until Winnie’s tail pushed him back, making him stumble and fall a couple of metres away from the edge of the cliff, that Haruka understood. The dragon landed again, snaking around his arm.

[ _…Thank you._ ]

Winnie purred, leaning his head on Haruka’s shoulder; but he didn’t notice, for something else had caught his attention the second he looked away from the sea.

There was a path –if it could be called that– that circled the curve of the cliff and apparently led inside the cave where the wind howled. It looked too narrow for more than one person to walk it, but when Haruka stood up it seemed it spread deeper into the grotto, where sunlight didn’t reach.

Winnie’s light weight clung to Haruka’s arm as he headed towards the entrance of the cave, but the second Haruka set foot on the naked stone he jumped as if he had been electrocuted, flew a couple of metres outside with a screech.

Haruka glanced at him, then at the cave, then back at the dragon.

[ _What’s wrong?_ ]

Winnie made another pitiful noise, but gave no sign of changing his mind; the fear was too strong, too primal, and Haruka nearly a stranger.

So he just shrugged and resumed his way alone.

The ceiling of the tunnel was covered in stalactites, a few bats sleeping between them. As Haruka kept walking he noticed the path descended to a point where the sea spray rained on the stone, making stepping on the carpet of lichen embedded into the rocks dangerous; Haruka lit up the tips of his fingers, the scarce natural light not enough for him to feel safe.

With his free hand he held onto the wall, fingers digging in the cracks moisture, time and possibly higher waves had carved into the stone; his progress was slow, but as the path bent and twisted the sea became tamer, nearly inviting, and it was a good place to hide a boat from an unstable demigod.

[ _A new boy! A new boy!_ ]

Haruka froze at the voice, looked around; but the sound hadn’t come from outside.

He had reached the end of the grotto, a plain rock from which he could easily dive into the calm water; the light in Haruka’s fingers nearly extinguished, though, when he saw heads sticking out of the surface.

Covered in moss, in seaweed― but undeniably human.

[ _He doesn’t smell like ours..._ ]

[ _Who cares? Look at his eyes!_ ]

[ _Have you seen his legs, Fosa?]_

[ _But his eyes... He must be a child of the sea._ ]

[ _Humans can have blue eyes too, Nácar._ ]

Haruka took a few steps back from the edge of the black stone, hands flying to his ears in an attempt to filter out the voices― there were at least seven women in the water, all of them chatting as if he weren’t there, and it was the first time so many people spoke in his head at once but Haruka already knew he didn’t like having so much noise invading his mind.

If his suspicions were correct, though―

Those weren’t people.

[ _Are you sirens?_ ]

The one closest to him –with anemones for hair and a hermit crab on her shoulder– smiled; her sharp teeth reminded Haruka of Rin― but unlike the demigod, she had three rows of them.

[ _And you’re a human_ ], she replied. [ _Did Rin finally get a toy?_ ]

Haruka opened his mouth, then closed it. In the end he just frowned, confused.

[ _Coral!_ ]  A bald siren with a brittle star clinging to her neck scolded her friend. [ _Humans don’t like being objects._ ]

[ _So what? He’ll be dead by the time I start thinking about caring… Hey, Human, are you Rin’s?_ ]

Something about the way the question was posed made Haruka freeze before instinctively shaking his head.

If they were the other inhabitants of the island Rin had talked about, they didn’t like him― and even though Haruka could catch glimpses of their tails flapping below the surface, he had no doubt they could crawl a few metres out of the water.

[ _The crab got your tongue, Human?_ ]

“Oi!”

The lights glowing in Haruka’s fingertips titillated a few time before dying when he spotted a shadow heading down the same path he had walked upon a few minutes prior, inhumanly faster.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay with Winnie?”

Haruka narrowed his eyes in response to the glare fixed on him— the red glowing in the now dim cave clenched a fist around his throat, but he tried to swallow his heart back to his chest, lighting up his hand again.

“And you bunch of harpies!” Rin’s growl echoed in the black walls. “Go look for some lonely sailor if you’re hungry.”

[ _It’s him who came here_ ], Coral complained. [ _Do you fancy him?_ ]

Rin’s expression was hidden behind his hair as he looked at the sirens, but the noise he made as halfway between angry and mortified.

“No, but I need him. So try not to eat him, even if he’s stupid, alright?”

Haruka clicked his tongue, annoyed.

“You’re welcome, you ungrateful idiot.”

In response, Haruka clicked his tongue again.

 

 

 

 

 

“Damn you and damn the moment I decided not dropping you into the sea was a good idea,” Rin growled as he walked out of the cave, Haruka hot in his heels. “I should have waited until they had eaten your legs; that way I’d be sure you don’t wander off again.”

Haruka found his notebook not far from the place where Winnie had thrown him to the ground; the dragon was guarding the entrance to the cave, but descended upon the pair once they walked out of it― Haruka barely had time to pet him before he leapt on Rin, who dropped himself on the ground to let the dragon lie on his chest as he scratched his neck.

Haruka picked up the notebook, and after a second of hesitation he sat down next to the demigod, opened it to write and threw a small stone at Rin’s arm to catch his attention.

**How did you find me?**

Rin closed his eyes, unable to muffle his yawn. Dark rings clung to his eyes, and Haruka wondered how long he had actually slept for before leaving.

“Winnie. He hates sirens.”

Haruka bit into his lower lip, glancing at the sea as if it were to tell him the best way to enunciate his next sentence.

**They use telepathy.**

Rin grunted at the second rock Haruka threw, nodded after reading it. “They would drive anyone crazy talking inside their head, if given the chance... But you’re a telepath too, right?” After a second of hesitation, Haruka nodded. “Wouldn’t that be easier than writing?”

Haruka narrowed his eyes as he replied.

**I use it with people I like.**

Rin arched an eyebrow. “You’re _so_ sweet." His tone dripped sarcasm. "Almost makes me wonder why I slaughtered humans for a living in my past life.”

There was no way he could have missed Haruka’s flinch.

If there was an ounce of the creature that had been executed seventeen years prior in the teenager before him, Haruka wanted nothing but to get away as far as he could― even if it meant meeting his end in a siren’s belly. The demigod his mother had hunted down had massacred a whole village before being arrested, had been given the death penalty; not in revenge or as a punishment, but to force his premature rebirth and be brought up in a proper manner so that he grew to be a respectable citizen in his following life. A regrettable end for such an extraordinary creature, but he had brought it upon himself.

Demigods had no memories of their past lives, though. So maybe this Rin wasn’t a murderer.

_But he is._

“Hey.” Haruka looked back at Rin, his sudden seriousness catching him off-guard. “Why can’t you speak? I mean… it’s because of that scar, right? What happened?”

Haruka had lost track of time inside the cave; reaching the platform at the end of the tunnel and walking back out must have taken longer than it had felt. The sun shone high on the sky, bathing a human, a demigod and a dragon, warming up the ground beneath them.

But Haruka felt cold.

The only good thing was that it seemed demigods didn’t retain memories from their birth either, just like regular humans.

Haruka absent-mindedly slid his index along the relief across his throat, having already made up his mind. His other hand shook when he wrote down a lie:

**An accident.**

For once, Rin accepted the answer without complaining.

 

 

 

 

 

In an unexpected display of consideration, Rin –and Winnie– gave Haruka a tour around the island after eating something.

They walked across the forest that covered a section of the eight-shaped island, climbed to the highest point –from where Haruka could spot the coast of Iwatobi–, then descended through an opening in the ground that wasn’t too far from the hut, whose insides were made of black stone.

“It’s not as big as the sirens’, but it’s still nice,” Rin explained, voice echoing against the walls. Winnie had stayed outside; apparently he didn't like caves in general. “And more importantly, they can’t get here.”

He threw the ball of fire in his hand up, until it brushed the stalactites of the ceiling; as a couple of bats screeched indignantly and flew away, light flooded the gallery of natural pools filled with salt water. Fire danced on the surface, blossomed on the walls; Haruka stepped to the edge, tried to see the bottom through the crystalline water and resisted the urge to dive in when he failed to find it.

Rin had already left by the time Haruka took his t-shirt off. He supposed the guided visit was over, so he spent most of the afternoon in the cave, floating on the surface until the flame above faded away and darkness flooded the gallery again.

 

 

 

 

 

They fell into a routine of sorts.

Rin always woke up first, had already left by the time Haruka was roused by Winnie’s squeaks. For his part, Haruka would take his time to have breakfast before heading out; he spent most mornings wandering across the island, his hopes to find a way to escape vanishing with each fruitless walk. He would swim in the cave in an attempt to shake his impatience off until he got hungry, then eat to the tune of faraway explosions whose cause he was getting a loose idea of. During the afternoon, he doodled until either Rin came back or he fell asleep, making a pause only to cook some of the meat the demigod kept in the improvised freezer.

As days passed, the time Haruka spent doodling on his notebook grew. There was nothing else to do in the island, and Rin seemed to be too busy wreaking havoc; after a while he even stopped trying to get Haruka to tell him –in a language he could understand– his name, and the bags under his eyes only grew darker. He was the one who brought food –meat and vegetables, sometimes eggs–, even though Haruka never saw him do so― and it was ironic, that such a shallow reason was what made Haruka break his silence out of something other than necessity.

**You always bring meat.**

Rin raised an eyebrow at Haruka’s statement.

“…You realised it alone?”

Breathing through his nose to resist the urge of hitting Rin with the notebook, Haruka turned it around to show him the other page.

**Why don’t you fish?**

“I don’t like fish that much,” Rin explained. “And you’re a hostage, be more grateful you get to eat at all. Or better, fish yourself. I have stuff to do.”

But he stayed still as Haruka scribbled a reply.

**Like destroying things?**

To Haruka’s surprise, Rin glanced away, his voice oddly quiet when he spoke:

“They already have an idea of where we are, so it doesn’t really matter.” Haruka frowned. “I like this place, but they always end up finding me…”

Haruka’s hunch was right, then.

He didn’t understand why Rin was sabotaging himself, though.

“What are you writing now? Your name at last?” Haruka wasn’t, but he took his time. “’The day you kidnapped me you were at the beach’,” Rin read aloud, with little inflection. “Yeah, I was. So?”

Haruka started a sign, but he didn’t finish—he wanted to be sure Rin understood exactly what he meant:

**You wanted to be found.**

To his surprise, Rin didn’t look angry, or offended as he shook his head.

Just tired.

“I wanted to stay human.”

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning, when Haruka awoke, he found a fishing rod and a bottle with bait resting next to his head.

He got the hint.

By mid-afternoon he had figured out how to use it; even so, after a couple of hours he had caught only three fishes.

It wasn’t as fruitful as Haruka had had in mind, but Rin’s expression when he walked in the smell of cooked fish was satisfying enough.

“For real?” he complained, eyebrows raised in disbelief. He stopped the dish flying towards him with a flick of his wrist. “Winnie, dinner’s ready,” he called, only to close his mouth suddenly when he saw the tail of another fish peeking out of the dragon’s mouth as he munched. “If I needed a cook I would have kidnapped one long ago,” he grumbled. “You’re the worst.”

Haruka threw him a lemon.

«It’s for your health», he signed, fully aware that would only piss Rin off further.

The demigod groaned, rubbed at his eyes. The exhaustion clinging to him was growing harder to ignore; for a second Haruka glanced at his notebook, but then Rin gave in and started eating his fish.

That didn’t erase the fact that the explosions had been echoing again that day, so in the end Haruka did grab his notebook to write Rin a note.

**Why do you destroy things? You’re tired.**

Rin grunted.

“I’m eating your damn fish, so do me a favour and shut up.”

To that, Haruka could only stare.

“I mean…” Rin trailed off, his choice of words catching up with him too late. “Not like…” He scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable. “I know technically you― you can’t _not_ shut up… But like, with that notebook, and with signs― I…”

Haruka couldn’t keep a straight face anymore.

He dropped his fork on the plate, covered his mouth to hide soundless laughter.

Eventually Rin ran out of unfinished excuses, halted the wild gestures he tried to explain himself with; pink clung to his cheeks as he finally closed his mouth and watched as Haruka tried to stop laughing and catch his breath.

“Oi, what’s so funny?”

Haruka bit onto his lower lip; heat crept up his neck even as he reached for his notebook again.

Rin was faster.

“I’m sorry.”

Haruka glanced up, eyes wide. He didn’t really mind Rin using the worst possible expression on accident; but it was the first time the demigod apologised for something, so he just shook his head and showed him again what he had written.

Rin shook his head back, his embarrassed blush gone; and Haruka had no option but to respect his silence.

 

 

 

 

 

Even though the sun had long sunk into the sea, Haruka wasn’t sleepy; so he walked out of the hut when Rin was too busy playing with Winnie to notice. He might lack the natural stealth the demigod didn’t seem to notice, but passing unnoticed was an ability he had learnt out of necessity, after too many strangers stopping him after spotting the scar across his throat to give him their condolences for his mother’s death.

He wasn’t sure why he felt restless, but water had always had a calming effect on him― it was too dark to venture into the cave, so Haruka headed down the path he had followed in the morning to fish, stood close to the edge as his gaze uselessly tried to pierce through the night.

The crescent moon didn’t shine enough to help him with that, and the main island was too far away for the city lights to reach him. It hadn’t rained in a few days, but the wind had increased; it blew through Haruka’s hair, hit him from all directions.

Haruka had lost track of how long it had been since Rin took him to the island― from the moon, he supposed that no more than a couple of weeks; but living with a dragon and the mess of a teenager that, against all odds, was also the monster responsible for his muteness and his nightmares had messed up his perception of time.

Haruka thought about his grandmother, about Makoto― even though he was unable to reach them telepathically, he knew they were worried out of their minds. He even wondered about his father; their relationship had always been tense at best, with Haruka growing to be the spitting image of his mother, but Haruka supposed the man was fond of him in spite of the pain.

And he missed them, too, but he had to admit the island wasn’t that bad. Rin wasn’t a monster, despite his obsession with meat and the bracelet that had yet to represent an actual hindrance. It was in that moment when Haruka realised he hadn’t dreamt of red eyes for around two weeks― maybe because he saw the real ones daily, even though it was hard finding them scary when their owner got frustrated easily because he didn’t know _his hostage_ ’s name and he probably feared Haruka was making fun of him whenever he used sign language.

Haruka let out a sigh; he glanced at the black sea growling against the rocks, wondered whether the sirens were in their cave or had dived to the bottom, where it would be surely quieter. Even though Rin had assured him they were too scared of enraging a demigod to dare to disobey him, Haruka hadn’t ventured into the grotto again, if only to avoid hearing so many voices in his head at once.

But he had to admit they were interesting creatures.

Haruka covered a yawn with the back of his hand. He wasn’t any closer to coming back to Iwatobi, but the salty air always helped him to calm down. It was enough for now, he told himself― it would have to.

What he didn’t expect, though, was the hard blow against his back just when he was turning around.

With a foot in the air, Haruka couldn’t keep his balance― he reached backwards so as to grab whatever had hit him, but his hands grasped only night.

The fall felt too long, considering there were barely two metres between him and the agitated waves. Haruka caught a glimpse of the moon just before he hit the surface, the roaring of the sea giving way to silent pressure that pushed against his eardrums.

Haruka kicked his way back to the surface, struggled against the waves forcing him into an one-sided dance― but the sea kept throwing him around, submerging him and stubbornly guiding him to the protruding rocks at the base of the cliff.

Spitting water, Haruka glanced up― the night was too dark, the stars too far away and the moon had vanished. He felt his heartbeat in his head, his insides empty as his panting reverberated, alternated with coughing.

 _The cave_.

Haruka breathed in water, but he didn’t care; even if the sirens were there, even if they disregarded the warning, he would be able to hold on until Rin… until Rin…

“Human!”

A new wave pulled Haruka down; this time, the water kept him beneath the surface, shoving him around until he forgot where _up_ was. He held his breath as well as he could, eyes opening to a darkness that stung.

He didn’t know whether the surface was a couple of centimetres away or he had already reached the bottom.

The water wasn’t supposed to do _this_ , and it had certainly never held him back so viciously.

Still, Haruka struggled to free himself― to swim _somewhere_ , because letting himself drift away was resigning to a certain death.

Bubbles escaped from his mouth when something hard hit the side of his head, water quickly rushing in to fill up the empty space. The blow took away the strength in his limbs― and Haruka was mildly aware he had breached, but the sea in his lungs weighed like lead.

He blinked at something red – _light?_ – suspended above him, heard a voice he should have recognised; but a new wave washed away his attempts to focus.

By some sort of miracle the light was still there after the wave, moving haphazardly before Haruka’s eyes.

“Hey! Where are you?”

Too bright in such a dark night.

Too far away.

 

It had taken him seventeen years, an extension he didn’t understand why he had been given.

But that night, unlike the one when he had met Rin, Haruka understood death.

It was a cold, black place, away from the red spot shining above like a new star.

It was quiet.

Like lying at the bottom of the sea.

 

“ _Haru!_ ”

 

It was supposed to be quiet and painless.

 _This_ wasn’t.

 

…In hindsight, maybe Haruka owed his life to ignorance.

 

His name sounded foreign to his own ears― thick, drowned out in a way he couldn’t understand even as water pulled him down once again.

 

The light he forced to shine beneath his palm was feeble.

Enough.

Dark arms pried him off the sea’s grasp, firm as he threw up water and what had been his dinner, as he kept heaving and shaking and gasping for air that burnt down his throat, his head splitting up at the noise.

“Hey… Hey, sa―… sign something. Even if it’s an insult or… or if you just want to flip Winnie off… Just _move_.”

_You…_

Rin… was safe, right? What was going on…?

Haruka opened his eyes to a red gaze― wide, unable to stay focused on one point.

«Why?», he tried to ask –why Rin was scared, why Rin knew his name–; but all Haruka could register was that he was warm, in spite of the water freezing him to the bone.

Safe.

So he let himself drift off to a different sea.

 

 

 

 

 

Darkness greeted Haruka when he opened his eyes.

Black, viscous and heavy― it was both senses and memory what squeezed air out of lungs that felt flooded with acid, as if he were still submerged. He instinctively tried to kick against the water, to find a way to the surface in spite of the tendrils strangling his arms.

Only when his heels found a soft mattress did he realise he could breathe. That the weight pushing him down was but his own exhaustion and the darkness came only from the night outside, accompanied by wind that rattled the window.

Still, all he could do was bringing his trembling hands to his face, keeping still as the wave of panic passed and his heart returned to his chest.

The throbbing pain in sync with his pulse didn’t leave his head, though― Haruka’s fingertips gingerly explored the bandage around his forehead, deduced its function was keeping his skull from splitting in half. Even if nausea clawed its way up his throat, disgusting enough to cut the fabric.

But after a while even the unpleasant feeling became bearable, just enough for Haruka to allow himself to think, to look around.

He recognised the ceiling of Rin’s room in the light of his glowing fingertips, blinked in an attempt to remember how he had got there. Nothing came, so he looked at his side for more hints―

_…Oh._

Haruka was lying on the bed, wrapped up in blankets. He frowned at the foreign smell of the clothes he had on –something halfway between sea and rain, and the rainbow afterwards–, at their unfamiliar feeling and the dryness that didn’t cling to his skin.

 _Oh_ , he thought for the second time upon connecting the dots.

His frown deepened when he spotted a figure curled up on the mattress Rin had brought the third day after kidnapping him― at the demigod’s stillness, broken only by his quiet breathing; his hand was curled around what looked like the first book Haruka had seen in the time he had spent in the island.

Up until then, Haruka had never seen Rin sleep; he would always wake up first and come back when Haruka was already passed out, and he often wondered if it was intentional. There was something captivating about how young the demigod looked, and in spite of his exhaustion Haruka found it hard to glance away.

So he just closed his eyes and put the light out.

He supposed the warmth pressed against his leg was Winnie, but Haruka would need to sleep for ten more years before feeling like making sure. Even though dawn seemed close, he didn’t feel well rested at all.

“Ha―… Ah, are you awake?”

When he looked up, Haruka flinched at the eyes glowing above him on instinct. The flames that appeared in Rin’s hand softened the effect, luckily.

“Phew…” The demigod sat on the edge of the bed. “I was starting to consider taking you back to the humans before they could blame me for another murder.”

Haruka tilted his head to the side, hands too heavy to sign his confusion.

“He was looking for you― but his night vision is terrible, so he accidentally pushed you off the cliff.” Rin sighed, and he looked more tired than ever. “He must really like you, he’s been by your side all night.”

That… made sense. Maybe.

Haruka didn’t really know, but listening to Rin stirred memories he didn’t want to think about just yet.

So instead he struggled against the strings pulling him towards sleep to ask a short question.

«Why?»

“Huh?”

Haruka paused, bit onto his tongue to keep himself awake and think up a way to convey his question.

After a couple of seconds, he spelt his full name; thankfully that lit up Rin’s expression with realisation.

“Ah! Did I… Did I get it right? Your name.” Haruka nodded, gaze flying to Rin’s free hand― the one he was still grabbing his book with. Now, thanks to the flames licking at Rin’s fingers, he could read its title.

_Basic shuwa manual._

“…I just wanted to make sure you weren’t laughing at me,” Rin admitted, letting go of the book to scratch the back of his head. “But I only got two signs when you did it… Anyway, is there anything you want? You threw up, so you should be hungry… No? How about water, then?”

Rin was desperately trying to keep the conversation away from the fact that he was learning sign language by himself; even in the dead of the night Haruka could see his flushed cheeks.

His arms weighted like lead, but he pushed against gravity one more time― because in Haruka’s still half-flooded brain, what he needed to say was important.

«Thank you».

Predictably, Rin was puzzled at a sign he did not know.

Haruka nearly smiled.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when exactly I will update, but since the story is practically finished I can promise it'll be soon. Until then, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!
> 
> Feedback is welcome :3


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

That day, Rin didn’t leave.

Haruka spent most of it drifting on and off consciousness, but the demigod was never too far every time he opened his eyes. Sometimes he would bring him food, sometimes water; more often, though, he was sitting on the floor, focused on the book there was no point to hide from Haruka anymore.

By noon Haruka had taught Rin how to sign _thank you_ and his headache had receded to a dull throbbing; every breath felt like nails clawing down his throat, but he could walk around without the floor coming up to meet him and he felt actually hungry.

There was no fish, though.

“Beef is delicious,” Rin stated, defiant. Unlike Haruka’s, his steak was so undercooked it still oozed blood on the plate. “And look what happened the last time you had fish.”

Haruka threw a glance at Winnie. The dragon had only grown clingier throughout the morning; Haruka wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling guilt, but he seemed still scared due to the events of the night prior.

He then looked back at Rin.

“It was the fish’s fault,” the demigod insisted.

Changing his mind would impossible, and the world still had the bad habit to spin whenever Haruka moved too abruptly, so he settled for the steak. At least Rin had taken the time to properly cook it, probably guessing (correctly) that Haruka wouldn’t eat raw meat.

After the brief banter, though, they had lunch in silence; Rin alternated taking bites of his steak and signing the syllabary. He had made a pretty good job memorising every sign, but he still threw glances at the book to make sure he got it right often.

If only he had looked up, he would have found that information in Haruka’s expression as he watched from the bed; but there was something captivating about his efforts― the frown knitting his eyebrows together, maybe, or the stubborn red lock that kept falling on his face no matter how many times he tucked it behind his ear.

Or perhaps it was solely the fact that he was going out of his way to understand Haruka.

“Hey, Haru.” Haruka looked down when Rin glanced up, stared at the steak he had barely touched and hoped the head piling up his neck bore a hole through his meal. “Oh, come on! I ate your fish last night.”

Haruka cut a piece, shoved it into his mouth; but he could barely feign annoyance when he raised his gaze. Not at the demigod, at least.

Luckily Rin didn’t seem to realise Haruka had been staring.

“Does this really mean something?” He raised his right hand, made the V sign and rotated his wrist so that his fingers pointed at his face. Then he hid his middle finger in his fist and twisted his hand in the opposite direction.

Haruka raised his eyebrows, amused at the occurrence.

He set his plate aside, got off the bed and knelt down before Rin.

The demigod hesitated when Haruka extended his hands towards him, palms up; but after a couple of seconds he relented. His warm fingers shook imperceptibly as Haruka toyed with them to guide him through the same movements he had made, now less exaggerated― most people who needed sign language were deaf, not blind.

“Isn’t that what I just did?”

Haruka started to shake his head, but changed his mind before finishing. Instead he held his spread hand before his face, thumb pointing at his chin, and waved it as if he were fanning himself.

«No».

“Then how is it?”

Letting go of Rin’s hand, Haruka imitated the signs he had made, slower, so that he could see the difference between them and his first attempt.

« _Ri-n_ », he signed, pointing at his index with his other hand to give him a reference. « _Rin_ ».

“Ah!” Rin spelt his name again, even slower than Haruka had, this time attentive to how much he twisted his wrist. “Like this?”

Haruka nodded.

“It’s kind of fun,” Rin commented, signing his name again. “I’ve never really paid much attention to my hands. By the way,” he added, as if he had just remembered, “you’re fine with Haru?”

Ideally, he would have been alright with Rin calling him by his last name; but at least _Haru_ wasn’t as blatantly girly as _Haruka_. Besides, if it weren’t for the demigod he would be feeding crabs at the bottom of the sea right now, so maybe Rin had earned the right to call him whatever he wanted.

He had deciphered Haruka’s spiteful signs by himself, after all.

This time, Haruka couldn’t help a small smile as he nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

It took Haruka nearly a week to realise the bracelet Rin had forcefully made him wear since the day he arrived at the island was gone.

In his defence, it could have been a normal accessory. It didn’t bother him for anything, except at times to swim. It was actually when Haruka trusted his sense of balance enough to venture into the forest that he noticed there was a strip of lighter skin where he had got used to see the bracelet.

He supposed Rin had pried it off him when he had been unconscious after nearly drowning; Haruka was confused about the reason, though.

“I realised it was useless the other night,” Rin explained when he came back at sunset― he was spending less time wreaking havoc these days, which was obvious in his livelier eyes. “It’ll only electrocute you if you get too far from the island; but even without it, if you tried to swim away you’d probably drown anyway.”

«…So?»

“Contrary to popular belief, demigods don’t enjoy killing people.”

Haruka glanced away. Dinner today was grilled vegetables and squid; Rin seemed to have taken it upon himself to have a more varied diet and had brought –at this point Haruka was pretty sure the proper word was _stolen_ , but he wasn’t going to complain– seafood and fish to preserve it in the makeshift freezer.

But no matter how pleasant living with Rin was these days, he couldn’t forget who he was and what he had done.

Even if he didn’t remember it.

Haruka felt Rin’s gaze following his every move as he fetched his notebook and pencil and wrote:

**But you enjoy destruction.**

Rin’s eyes widened.

“That’s not…” He huffed. “I don’t. I hate it.”

He scratched the back of his head, gave Winnie a tentacle of his squid to buy time and put his thoughts in order before glancing at Haruka again, visibly steeling himself to give some sort of explanation.

“…I’m always angry,” he muttered quietly, defeated. “It’s usually not much, but I… I don’t know why. Russell used to say it’s because I’m a demigod, but I’ve never heard of something like this happening to anyone else― I’m just made for wreaking havoc, I guess.

“But I’m half human, too.” Rin sank his sharp teeth into his lower lip, and Haruka had no idea who Russell was but it didn’t really matter. “Even though I have Winnie, and… I don’t―… Well.”

«You are lonely», Haruka guessed.

He had taught Rin the sign just the day prior; the demigod stared at him for a second before recalling its meaning and nodding just barely.

“But at the same time, I can’t just… you know, I’ve heard some humans don’t want to execute me again, even though I apparently killed, I killed a lot of them when was reborn.” Haruka glanced down, unable to keep looking the demigod in the eye after the brief second when he faltered. “But I’d just harm them again.

“I can’t help what I am, but I’d rather burn down islets in the middle of nowhere than people.”

Haruka didn’t move. He had read about demigods, and Rin’s explanation fit with what he knew; but, at the same time, the quivering words squeezed his stomach.

 **You haven’t attacked me** , he wrote. Only at the beginning had Rin been aggressive― but Haruka had purposefully irritated him awfully often, and at the end of the day all Rin had done was keeping him safe.

“Yet.”

Haruka breathed out slowly, not sure why he wanted to cheer Rin up of all things― but hearing the perspective of the monster was more painful than infuriating.

«You won’t».

Rin didn’t reply, but his scepticism as he resumed eating was evident.

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka wanted to believe Rin was unable to hurt a fly.

On the one hand, he had lived with the demigod for nearly three weeks, during which no amount of spiteful taunting had achieved something other than grunts and a few insults. No matter how hard Rin tried to act distant, he had done nothing but growing closer, awfully so.

On the other hand, though, the fact that Rin had slit his throat the day he was reborn was a bit impossible to ignore.

 

 

 

 

 

A couple of days after a conversation Haruka was pretty sure Rin did his best to pretend had never happened, the demigod found him when he was hiding from the humid heat in the cave.

“You and your candles…” he commented, approaching Haruka. Haruka was floating on his back, but made an effort to row with his arms to get closer to the edge; he frowned,though, inexplicably offended.

He liked the tremulous light his fingers projected on stalactites, the shadows shifting as he drifted across the natural pond; and, as Rin’s face hovered above him, he decided the way the fireflies in his fingertips danced in his crimson gaze was too captivating to look away.

He only closed his eyes when they started to itch, and by the time he had opened them again Rin was gone― the splash when he dove into the pool next to Haruka’s tickled his skin.

Haruka sank his legs, headed towards the natural wall separating him from Rin. It was the first time, since _the first time_ , that he saw the demigod swim; up close the slashes he cut through the water with were unbelievably clean, his movements sharp and well calculated. More as if the water stepped aside to make way for him.

As far as Haruka knew, the legends about nature bowing to demigods were but myths; but the light in his fingers brushed Rin’s pale skin as he swam, carved deep valleys between tense muscles― shone in hair darkened by the water.

And Haruka believed them, just a little.

“What?”

Haruka grabbed the edge of the pond tighter when Rin stopped swimming and rose his head, clenched his mouth shut at the eyes fixed on him in curiosity.

«You like swimming», he signed after a couple of seconds.

He hadn’t taught Rin the sign for _swim_ yet, but it was clear enough.

Rin shrugged. “Water relaxes me, I guess… No, not enough,” he quickly added, halting Haruka before he could keep signing; he absent-mindedly scratched along his jaw. “But with this heat it’d relax anyone, right?”

Haruka didn’t reply.

He dove again, if only to get Rin out of his field of vision. Both because the conversation was over and because his main problem wasn’t this bothersome summer anymore: it was the heat in his cheeks.

It had been for a while, now.

And one of these days, Haruka would run out of excuses to not teach Rin the sign for _beautiful_.

 

 

 

 

 

Avoiding confrontation with someone who would eat only meat if given the chance, who apparently gave his all to be purposefully obnoxious on a daily basis and who had a knack of getting under Haruka’s skin in the silliest situations, was hard; but Haruka tried his best, only giving in when Rin was excessively annoying.

Which was, sadly, often.

“Your fish is awful, and always the same!” Rin would complain every other night.

«How would you like it better?» was Haruka’s reply, as mockingly as he was able to sign.

And then Rin would reply something stupid like _with meat_ , and Haruka’s patience had a limit.

But when the explosions were louder than usual for a few days, one after another when Rin resumed his old habit of barely interacting with him, Haruka couldn’t help but voice his concern.

Not that it made a difference.

“Be glad it’s not you,” was Rin’s answer to Haruka’s written statement when he stepped in the bedroom. Haruka had gone back to the mattress on the floor after the accident, figuring Rin’s kindness wouldn’t last forever. The demigod tilted his head to the side when Haruka signed something he had yet to learn. “What?”

He had to wait a bit for the written version:

**I can’t teach you if you’re away.**

Rin raised an eyebrow. “You got Stockholm syndrome _now_?”

After somehow resisting the urge to throw the notebook at him, Haruka lowered his hands.

He didn’t really feel like a prisoner these days. Trapped in the island, sure; but had it not been for Rin’s occasional _you’re too insolent for a hostage_ it wouldn’t have felt any different from the week he spent on the countryside with Makoto’s family every summer.

Haruka wasn’t sure when he had started feeling lonely again, after getting somewhat used to his grandmother’s absence. But Winnie’s squeals weren’t enough to fill the silence of Rin destroying islets and skerries somewhere beyond the always hungry sea― perhaps he had grown used to the kinder routine of the days following his nearly drowning; but now the wound in his head was scarring just fine and Haruka knew better than to get close to the cliffs at night.

It was unfair, that Rin sought Haruka out and when he finally found him he ran away, daily, to destroy lifeless rocks protruding from the sea.

And yet, what bothered Haruka the most wasn’t Rin’s absence, not even the sort of longing he couldn’t keep ignoring.

«You’re tired».

Rin narrowed his eyes― and they still looked oddly dull, as if the rings were eating away at their red, worse than the first time he had been avoiding Haruka.

Perhaps what hurt the most was that he replied in sign language― unbearably slow; and Haruka knew he was just not fluent enough, but the lack of haste felt like the twist of a knife inside his flesh after a stab.

«That’s none of your business».

Haruka spent most of the night glowering at the wall, giving Rin his back― and perhaps the demigod’s own glare had something to do with the way the beams creaked.

 

 

 

 

 

Rin came back at mid-afternoon.

That alone was a rare occurrence, but Haruka forgot he was supposed to address the demigod with glares and insolence when he noticed the pallor clinging to his cheeks, the trembling fingers clenching and unclenching around the hem of his torn t-shirt and his inability to properly pet Winnie.

“They’re so close…” he muttered, as if to himself.

Haruka turned to a blank page of his notebook, signing _who_ at Rin.

“Humans, of course.” He sat dawn; his lips were chapped. “The island is invisible to them, but they can detect energy and… No, it’s not the explosions,” he hissed before Haruka even started signing. “I just felt pessimistic the other day; but I make sure to be far enough so that they don’t bump into the island by accident.”

«Then?»

Rin glanced away.

“Probably you. I’m powerful enough in this form to do most stuff,” he added quickly, “but I think their fancy radars detected me the other night.”

Haruka remembered the red light, the changing sea of darkness.

It hadn’t really felt like the hold of the monster that had taken him to the island for the first time.

«Sorry».

Rin shook his head, turning to walk towards the door; his steps were wobbly. “It’s fine. I’ll just have to reinforce our camouflage.”

It wasn’t until Rin was outside that Haruka realised _humans finding them_ was supposed to be good news.

 

 

 

 

 

Winnie had left shortly after Rin; having nothing better to do, Haruka spent the afternoon drawing in the light of the falling sun.

The weather had become warmer, sunnier; even the everlasting wind seemed softer as summer settled in the island. Humidity was a problem, though, but solving that was as easy as spending the hottest hours of the day swimming in Rin’s cave.

Haruka’s attention drifted away from his sketch, though, the setting sun constantly attracting his gaze. It was hard to keep track of time without clocks or references other than how long it took to get hungry after eating a meal, but Haruka was sure several hours had passed since Rin and Winnie left.

Camouflage spells weren’t that hard― and for a demigod, they must have been even easier. And Haruka hadn’t heard any explosions for the whole afternoon…

Where was Rin, then?

Haruka bit onto his lower lip, closing his notebook as he stood up. Part of him whined that it was stupid, that Rin was among the most powerful creatures on Earth and he might be stealing food for dinner for all Haruka knew; but his mind was unable to relinquish the moment he had faltered, right before leaving.

And Haruka had no real way to be sure whether Rin was overworking himself― but for human standards, his looks these days gave away he _was_.

He hadn’t even finished putting his shoes on when a weight outside the hut slammed the door open; Haruka barely had the time to stand up before Rin collapsed on him, and certainly not to prepare himself to bear his weight without falling back― pain shot up his wrist when he leant his hand on the floor to soften the hit.

But it didn’t matter, because his other arm had quickly snuck around Rin’s waist, even though the demigod was on top of him, legs folded between Haruka’s. He buried his head in Haruka’s shoulder, breath quick and shallow; and through his clothes Haruka could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“…you were right,” Rin slurred, shaky fingers making their way to fistfuls of Haruka’s t-shirt. Winnie had landed behind him, eyes wide. “I was tired.”

It wasn’t often that Haruka wished he could scream.

That evening, he would have given up magic to be able to yell― at Rin, for not caring at all, at himself, for not doing enough; because both of them had seen it coming but Haruka could barely move. And the worst part wasn’t guilt― it was the certainty that Haruka _could_ yell, could scold Rin and make sure he regretted neglecting his health, but the memory of the only time he had tried it was still too fresh for him to dare again.

No matter how many times Haruka raked through the hut in search of a thermometer, there was no way to accurately measure Rin’s fever; he remembered the times he had held his hand to teach him a new sign, wanted to believe it wasn’t that bad even though the demigod could barely collaborate to go to his bedroom.

“’m fine,” he whispered as Haruka took his shoes off, but his eyes shone with visible uneasiness when Haruka came back after leaving them at the entrance, notebook in one hand and Winnie perched on the opposite shoulder. “I don’t―”

Something about Haruka’s glare as he dropped the notebook and practically threw a blanked on him extinguished the rest of Rin’s sentence.

«Are you hungry?»

Rin sighed, shook his head.

“Haru…”

«Shut up».

“…Sorry.”

Haruka frowned, hands frozen mid-gesture. And perhaps Rin wasn’t the only one who was tired –he might be able to stand on his feet, but he hadn’t rested properly for days–; but he didn’t think the demigod was apologising for overworking himself.

…As if Haruka _cared_.

He just needed Rin not to die if he wanted to get out of that island someday.

But his fingertips still itched with the obvious follow-up question and maybe it was for the best that Rin’s eyelids drooped closed before he could give in to an impulse that would only bring trouble.

 

 

 

 

 

In spite of Haruka’s efforts, Rin’s state didn’t improve throughout the night.

He spent the hours of darkness trapped in that strange world between sleep and wakefulness, pale fingers clutching at air as if to keep himself from falling if he clung to people Haruka did not know.

As for Haruka, he kept himself awake out of sheer stubbornness until dawn; he would sometimes brush Rin’s hair aside, allow him to lean his cheek against Haruka’s colder fingers to alleviate the scorching heat wreaking havoc within him. He tried to cool his skin down with a damp cloth― Rin would whine and try to get away and try to push _Haruka_ away, but the electrifying surges of magic crawling up Haruka’s arms at Rin’s touch were just a little painful.

That alone was worrying. Rin should have been able to slam Haruka against the wall with the slightest movement, even more so in a state in which he wasn’t even completely aware of what he was doing. But at some point he had gone quiet, skin hot enough to combust― and Haruka found himself praying demigods had a better tolerance to fever than humans did.

The sun was on its way to the highest point in the sky when Haruka awoke, sore from the uncomfortable position he had dozed off in: sprawled next to the bed, with his head leaning on the mattress and his left wrist trapped in the vicious grip Rin had managed when Haruka lowered his guard.

Regardless of the discomfort, freeing himself from Rin’s claw-like fingers would mean leaving him to be food for his nightmares; so Haruka only watched the demigod’s slightly slower breathing, the frown in his expression that gave away he was finally waking up.

“…Hi.”

His voice was raspy; his gaze disoriented, unfocused.

Haruka greeted him with his free hand, composing half a sign Rin didn’t seem to understand.

“Sign language is hard,” he croaked out.

Haruka shrugged, not really agreeing. He supposed it was just like any other language― just one not many people spoke. But he had learnt it when he was pretty young; Rin, for his part, had interest in it, but didn’t pick it up as naturally.

Rin lightly squeezed his wrist, as if to remind him to pay attention.

“I don’t…” He trailed off, his frown deepening. “It’s not a hobby.” Haruka wanted to say something, but Rin kept speaking, increasingly agitated. “But I wanted to… I wanted to, as if―… Fuck, Haru, I’m so sorry…”

His voice wavered, then shattered into a thousand shards.

All of them stabbed Haruka, stayed embedded in his skin, as hot as Rin’s grip around his wrist; even though it was summer, he felt cold.

But it was worse when Rin let go.

Because Haruka had no more excuses to avoid asking the question lodged deep within his chest since the evening prior.

«Why?»

He flinched when Rin raised his hand a little, then stayed still as a burning index found his throat, slid along the pale relief that had once been a bleeding smirk― that might melt to return to that night under the caress.

“I did that, didn’t I?”

Air froze in Haruka’s lungs― he could neither breathe in nor out, Rin’s words stilling time in a second that lasted an eternity.

He had figured it out.

The one thing Haruka hadn’t wanted to tell him.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise. In spite of his grandmother and his father’s efforts to give him an ordinary upbringing, the night a demigod’s rebirth had gone wrong and slaughtered its executioners was still a popular story to scare children; people in Iwatobi might be used to the only survivor, but the white scar across Haruka’s throat was hard to pass up.

All he could do was nodding and regretting it when tears blurred Rin’s delirious gaze, his hand flying to cover tormented eyes.

“I thought―… I wanted you to be someone else,” the demigod choked out; weak, haunted and crying, the polar opposite of what Haruka dreamt of often. “But you dodged the question and I, I… _Why_ does it have to be you?”

Haruka felt under the bed until he found the notebook he had shoved there before, nearly cutting through the page in his rush.

**Why?**

Rin peeked at the note from between his fingers.

“I don’t― I don’t know. I don’t remember… I’m sorry. I killed them, and you lost―” a sob cracked his voice― “…I guess I tried― I wanted to learn sign language, b-but it makes no difference and you still can’t…”

Rin’s eyes widened at the palm covering his mouth to silence the rest of the sentence, blinked away his tears as he glanced at Haruka.

Haruka, whose fingers, rigid on Rin’s jaw, shook as much as the demigod’s breathing; whose eyes held oceans greater than the one surrounding them. Who had no strength left to keep telling himself the person before him was a cool-blooded monster.

Because he had always believed his mother –and his father, and the rest of hunters– to be right; but he couldn’t deny, not even to himself, that Rin was no less human than him― that his sorrow was so great he had spent the latest weeks destroying himself.

 **That is in the past** , he eventually wrote, after making sure Rin would keep quiet. **I like that you’re learning _shuwa_.**

Rin shook his head. “You can’t care that little.”

Haruka looked down.

It was unfair, how much Rin noticed.

Of course Haruka cared. He cared about his dead mother, about the father that never spent longer than a week around him because Haruka resembled her too much. About the scar, the pity constantly stepping on his pride and nightmares, about being stuck with the one responsible for his life being the opposite of _ordinary_.

About how _responsible_ didn’t mean _guilty_ and the monster Haruka had spent seventeen years being scared of was overwhelmed by remorse for crimes he did not remember.

And he cared about Rin, too.

His hand trembled when he rephrased his statement.

**It changes nothing.**

Haruka’s mother was still dead and his voice would never come back.

Rin blinked, new tears rolling down his temples. He opened and closed his mouth several times; but it was the heat radiating off him Haruka didn’t need touch to feel what prompted him to bring his index to his lips.

«Go to sleep».

And perhaps Rin didn’t understand, or maybe he just didn’t like being ordered around; but his heavy eyelids closed to hide a mild glare.

 

 

 

 

 

The next time Rin awoke, he kept quiet.

He only stared at a particular point on the wall, flinched when Haruka’s hand landed on his forehead in concern. But he wasn’t as hot as he had been earlier― he looked just lost in thought, far too gone in depths Haruka couldn’t really relate to.

He fell asleep shortly afterwards without uttering a word.

 

 

 

 

 

It was Haruka who woke Rin up again, despite himself. Even though the demigod needed to rest, it would be pointless if he didn’t eat.

Rin’s sullen look when he opened his eyes to Haruka shaking his shoulder vanished a little as soon as he spotted the bowl in front of him; he sat up, reached for the plate with uncertain hands― seemed relieved Haruka didn’t take it away.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

«No».

While Winnie curled up next to his owner, Haruka sat down on the floor, at the feet of the bed. He picked the book on _shuwa_ , even though he already knew everything it said, skimmed through it just to make sure he hadn’t forgotten how to read in the time he had spent with Rin.

He glanced up in confusion, though, when seconds passed and the demigod made no noise that gave away he was eating.

In the light of the setting sun flooding the room through the window, Rin looked strangely small; shivers still ran down his spine, sweat sticking red locks to his temples. The nearly painful fragility in his trembling lips, the weariness clinging to his feverish gaze seemed bigger than him― and for the first time it occurred to Haruka that Rin – _this_ Rin– was actually younger than him for a few months.

And he carried the weight of sins he didn’t remember.

 **I ate when you were asleep** , Haruka wrote, even though he didn’t think Rin was worried about his diet.

A hum reverberated in the room as Rin looked down to his bowl.

“Why?” he asked the soup. “Why do you care?”

The question fell in Haruka’s stomach like ice, freezing his latest meal.

There was only one proper answer to that question, and it wasn’t even the right one. Even in Haruka’s brain, _if Rin dies I’ll never be able to go back_ sounded obsolete, true as it was. Because that didn’t explain the knot in his throat every time he heard explosions, the helplessness blocking his airways when Rin disregarded concern that was already hard enough for him to express.

And Haruka wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with those feelings that shouldn’t belong within his heart, other than getting rid of them; but the moment Rin knew –the moment they were _out there_ , free and out of his control– they would become real. And that…

That was more terrifying than waiting for the monster’s return had ever been.

But Rin wouldn’t have asked out loud if he didn’t want an answer.

His expectant silence was worse than the hand strangling Haruka the day he had kidnapped him.

Haruka poked at Rin’s knee to get him to look up.

«You did too».

Rin’s nod was oddly resigned. “Ah, I guess I’ll have to keep you from drowning again the next time I plan to get sick, then.”

His eyes shone with unshed tears, but now Haruka had no idea about the reason.

 

 

 

 

 

The next day, after having lunch, Haruka accompanied Rin to the cave. Both because Rin _really_ needed a bath to wash the sweat off him and to swim himself; he hadn’t gone out of the hut while the demigod had been sick and the burning of restlessness in his limbs was becoming unbearable.

Rin’s fever had subsided the night prior; his steps were slightly unsteady when they walked out of the hut, but they grew firm as they approached the entrance. Still, Haruka kept an eye on him as they descended to the guts of the island, unable not to frown when Rin lit up their way with a ball of fire.

Of course, the demigod noticed.

“Oh, come on. You don’t seriously think I’m going to relapse just from this, right?” He teased.

Haruka huffed.

«You don’t need it». It would have been impossible not to pick up on how well Rin managed in the dark.

“Yeah, but you do,” he replied.

He didn’t elaborate, though. Haruka had no way to tell whether it was because he was still drained from the fever, but Rin certainly looked… cloudy, if he were to name that impression.

Duller, quieter. Lost in thought, quite literally― without a way out, and without a way for Haruka to get in.

Haruka stood still when Rin threw the flames in his hand up, bit onto his lower lip at the pile of clothes growing next to the demigod as he took them off before diving without a word.

Much like himself, Rin liked water.

Haruka hoped it washed the layer of distance off his skin, too.

He dropped his notebook on the black stone and undressed without really paying attention to his movements, automatically headed for the pond next to Rin’s.

When he jumped into the water, he didn’t kick his way to the surface immediately. On the contrary, he pushed himself down, down, down, looking for the bottom with the tips of his toes until the lack of air squeezed his lungs― only then, spurred by the memory of a black, windy night, did Haruka move up, gasping for air when he breached.

He dove again as soon as his lungs were full of oxygen, and this time he opened his eyes, lit up his fingers; there were no fish in the pond, but sponges and moss animals covered most of the natural walls. Haruka had seen them before, and didn’t like the salty itching in his eyes, but they were colourful and often had slugs and little shrimps mowing that living carpet.

Sometimes he tried to reach the bottom of the pond again― but he never touched it, or even caught a glimpse of it, even with his glowing fingers. Just like every time he went there, he ended up giving up, wanting nothing but to float on his back until he caught his breath.

“Are you sure you aren’t half siren?”

Rin’s voice should have startled Haruka; but it didn’t, if only because its owner was looking at him from the neighbouring pool, arms leaning on top of the wall between them and chin resting on his hand.

Haruka shook his head, swam towards him.

“Really? You use telepathy, you swim as if you had been born in the water…” But he glanced away, and something about his casual appearance made the whole charade crumble down. “Hey, Haru… About yesterday…”

Haruka shook his head again. Nearly desperate, now.

He hit the surface with his palm, loudly, to make Rin look at him.

«It’s alright», he assured― even if it was not.

All he had been able to conclude, in the long hours Rin had spent asleep, was that holding the person before him completely responsible for the atrocities the demigod had done in its past life was unfair. That Rin might shift to become a terrifying presence, but he was no monster―

That they had killed him.

Regardless of how honourable hunters’ intentions were, there was too much humanity in Rin to not consider his execution a murder. And they had kept trying to hunt him down for years, during which he had had to hide…

No wonder he was angry.

“Hey, no.” Haruka couldn’t help but draw back when Rin hauled himself over the stone wall and jumped in his pool, and for some reason the demigod’s nudity was scarier than the raw, untamed power running through his veins. “You could get away when I was sick, but I don’t want to… to…” Rin scratched the back of his head, looking around as if the proper words were to appear between the shadows. “Why don’t you hate me?”

For a second, the world was still.

No ripples, no splashes― not even the constant rumour of waves in neighbouring caves or the echo of Rin’s frustration. Haruka blinked at him, shocked at first― but surprise soon gave way to an understanding that hurt when Haruka peeked from the door Rin had tried to close in his face after his delirious apology.

It wasn’t that Rin felt Haruka should hate him.

It was that he wanted Haruka to.

«You aren’t angry».

Rin frowned, confused. “Huh?”

Haruka glanced at his clothes, at the notebook lying next to them― but in the end he settled for fingerspelling, which Rin had already more of less got the hang of:

«You feel guilty».

That was why he spent so much time who knew where, why he tried with decreasing success to keep himself at bay― and, Haruka suspected, why he had punished his body  until he collapsed a couple of days prior.

Rin bit onto his lower lip.

“So what? I did that, after all.”

«You had just been born». Haruka wasn’t sure why he insisted― why he was arguing against everything he had always thought was set on stone; but if he knew something about the person before him at all, it was that he would never hurt anyone willingly. «They killed you».

“And I don’t remember that,” Rin hissed through gritted teeth, confusion quickly morphing into anger. “But I still killed them― and your mother.”

Air froze in Haruka’s lungs, edges sharp and cutting.

Missing his mother was odd. There were no happy memories to cling to, no lullabies to sing to himself. Only thousands of what-ifs swirling in his head every time his father couldn’t bear to look at him, stolen glances at the photograph on the altar of his grandmother’s house when she spoke about the person smiling in it.

He wasn’t foolish enough to deny his life would have been completely different if she hadn’t died that night.

But she had.

Which made wondering pointless.

On the other hand, Rin was painfully alive, aware and tormented.

«Seventeen years ago», Haruka eventually signed. «So stop hurting yourself».

Rin pursed his lips together. He looked like an upset child, but his eyes― his eyes were wide, glowing with the light Haruka’s fingertips could finally shed inside.

“…Out of all humans,” he breathed out.

Haruka’s hand trembled when he reached out for Rin’s beneath the surface, finding warmth in the startled fingers his own curled around in an awkward attempt to console him.

 _Out of all demigods_ …

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka’s hand burnt with the imprint of Rin’s for hours.

More than when he had been teaching the demigod, more even than the long hours watching his uneasy sleep; that had been out of necessity or basic empathy; now…

It was different.

Ghosts of fingers pressed against his skin long after the real ones had let go, after they got out of the water and climbed up to the forest and Rin announced, in an oddly uncertain tone, that he wanted to sleep a bit more.

For his part, Haruka headed for the lowest point of the coast, sat at the edge of the cliff he had fallen off not too long ago, close to the sirens’ cave. Winnie arrived shortly afterwards, probably upon realising a sleeping demigod was not exactly entertaining, curled up against Haruka’s legs, hitting him with his tail every now and then to be petted.

It had been less than two days since Haruka had last been drawing, but every hour since Rin had collapsed on him, exhausted and feverish, felt like a whole week; he skimmed through pages that alternated doodles and shards of conversations.

At first there were mostly sketches of the grotesque creature his nightmares used to turn Rin’s unstable form into, but soon there were attempts at capturing the way Winnie stuck out his tongue when he was hungry, the patches of colonial animals surrounding the three rows of sharp teeth that gave sirens an eerie beauty, the way sea foam stubbornly stuck to the rocks when the water drew back before bringing a new wave.

And Rin.

 _This_ Rin.

It began subtle –an oval split in half by a lock of hair, an eye in the corner of the page–; soon, though, it became more evident: a silhouette petting a dragon, hands signing two syllables to the furious waves, a frown focused on a book.

Haruka bit the inside of his cheeks.

He couldn’t deny he liked drawing Rin. It nearly felt like drawing the crashing waves or Winnie lowering his long form to the ground before leaping on an unsuspecting hare― a natural wonder, too dynamic to be captured in a sheet of paper, too fierce for a bad pencil to represent it.

And the more Haruka learnt, the less idea about how to draw it he had.

How was he supposed to express the moment of hesitation when Rin learnt a new sign, the insecurity Haruka found in his fingers? The way light danced in his eyes when he smiled, dangerous in a way the creature that inhabited Haruka’s nightmare would never be; the fondness in his voice when he talked about Winnie― his endearing reluctance the day he had admitted the dragon was with him because with his impaired night vision he would most likely die if he were to live by himself in the wild. Even if Haruka had more than that pencil, there were no colours to express his inability to stay away, to –in spite of what he said– not be human.

It was frustrating.

Just as much as Haruka’s failed attempts to have all of Rin in a drawing, as the growing urgency eating away at him.

Because somewhere along the way he had realised Rin had kidnapped him without thinking, used him as a shield in a moment of desperation. That this island in the middle of nowhere was not home and had never been supposed to be something other than a cage, and the day when Rin took him back would inevitably arrive.

And that…

That wasn’t supposed to be an upsetting idea, but it was.

In the end, Haruka didn’t draw.

 

 

 

 

 

The hut was silent when Haruka came back, Winnie’s curious noises reverberating against the walls.

Made of wood, the building was never a cold place; but it seemed today it had accumulated more heat than usual. It blew burning air in Haruka’s face as soon as he walked in, and had it not been because he needed the fireplace to cook dinner he would have spun on his heels and walked back out.

He glanced at the bedroom’s entrance when he noticed the shadow sliding across the floor; Rin was always eerily silent. He was rubbing at his eye, yawning as his other hand slipped beneath the hem of his t-shirt to scratch the skin beneath.

“Hmm… Haru… evening,” was all he managed, stretching his arms above his head like an overgrown cat.

Red hair stuck out in all directions, messy locks falling on his face; he didn’t bother to cover his mouth to yawn again, and yet what caught Haruka off-guard was how _not_ annoyed he was by such an overly familiar display. Even though sleep and small tears clung to the corner of drowsy eyes.

Still, there was something aggravating to the way orange and red painted the demigod’s pale skin.

«Good morning», Haruka eventually replied― it was only when Rin frowned in confusion that he realised his mistake. «Do you feel better?»

“I’ve been feeling better all day, _Mum_.” Rin whistled so that Winnie flew towards him, scratched the dragon’s neck when he curled around his shoulders, a teasing note clinging to the corner of his mouth. “Anyway, is it just me or is it really hot here?”

It wasn’t Rin’s impression, so they decided to have dinner outside, and even though they opened all the windows they only walked in the hut to cook dinner. In spite of the demigod’s complaints, Haruka refused to let him set floating flames around the ground when night finally fell upon them, where the shrubs could easily ignite and start a fire.

He didn’t expect, though, to have Rin follow him around as he lit up tips of weeds around the building at random.

“I thought you could only do it in your fingers,” the demigod admitted when Haruka walked past a now glowing poppy.

Haruka turned around, watched Rin’s curiosity in the light he had created. The soft breeze danced with his hair, shadows playing, shifting on his face. He kept crouching before the red flower even after Haruka brushed dandelions, daisies and mallows to light them up in his wake.

How a shining flower could captivate someone who belonged in greater planes of reality, Haruka did not know.

He had no idea, either, when he decided to walk back to the poppy; only when he found himself crouching before Rin did he realise the warmth radiating from it― it wasn’t enough to set the island on fire, not even to annoy them in that midsummer night. But it painted Rin’s cheeks a soft pink Haruka felt the strange need to touch.

«You can’t?»

The light in Rin’s eyes danced when he looked up― uneasiness still clung to his gaze, but a renewed confidence Haruka hadn’t seen before was slowly but surely eating it away.

“Of course I can,” he snorted, offended. He trapped the flower in his hand, and when he opened it there was no more light― his eyes glowed red when he caressed the fragile petals and they started shining again, brighter than before. “It’s just precise stuff is a pain, and fire is good enough.”

It wasn’t hard to understand, considering half Rin’s heritage had the power to create and destroy entire worlds.

Haruka looked at the poppy. The back of Rin’s hand was still brushing the flower, and it occurred to him that it was the same one he had grabbed only a few hours prior― attempting to comfort him, or so he had wanted to.

But now Rin looked alright and Haruka still kind of wanted to hold his hand and find out whether his blush felt as warm as it looked; and it was the same curiosity he sometimes felt when he stood on high places and wondered what jumping into the void would be like.

Terrifying.

«Let’s eat», he signed instead, nearly tripping over his own foot in his haste to walk away.

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka and Rin stayed outside the hut after having dinner, not really wanting to go to sleep so soon.

Besides, a not entirely unpleasant restlessness vibrated beneath Haruka’s skin, like electricity continuously making his hair stand on end. He felt oddly awake, unusually aware of the spectacle around him.

Haruka would never stop marvelling at how many stars there were in the sky; even though Iwatobi was a small town, the light from buildings and lampposts concealed the twinkling spots above. But in the island, away from cities, from civilisation, with the moon gone, there were entire rivers of them, ancient maps that guided countless animals in their migrations.

There was a starry sky around them, too― the fireflies glowing across the ground trembled with the nearly chilly wind, some of them disappearing when Winnie mistook them for actual preys. Gravity felt like a mirage; as he lay on his back Haruka might as well have been floating on still water next to Rin, bioluminescent plankton swirling around them both.

No, there was no reason to go to sleep just yet.

“Haru?”

Rin’s voice was small, small enough to be swallowed by the silky night. Haruka couldn’t know whether he wanted to be heard or not; but he glanced at him, expectant.

He was only a metre away from Haruka; their hands lay close to each other, enough to link them if they moved a little, and his gaze was fixed on Haruka, lazy and relaxed and also a bit uneasy.

“…you know, you’ve never asked when you would leave.”

Haruka frowned. The comment settled in his stomach like a cold stone, unwanted and uncomfortable.

«Why this now?» he gestured― his hand was further from Rin’s when he dropped it on the ground again.

But Rin sat up, scratching at the back of his head as he glanced aside.

“I didn’t mean… I… I don’t mind having you here,” he tried. “I was just… curious, I guess.”

Haruka only stared at the stars framing Rin’s dishevelled hair. That wasn’t an answer, and definitely not the one he had asked for.

“Because I… I guess I could, but shifting again would absolutely give me away. I’d have to leave the island too, so if we… if we…”

Haruka sat up too― no; he rose up to his knees, facing Rin, perhaps a bit too close. Apprehension squeezed his lungs and he could only begin to figure out why.

«Do you want me to leave?»

Rin’s eyes widened. Hurt, or that was what they looked like from less than one metre away, illuminated by the light Haruka had created.

“That’s―… You should. You _really_ should.”

Irritation made its way up Haruka’s chest, not completely burning dread in its wake.

«Do you want me to leave?» he repeated, impatient.

Angry, not as much with Rin as he was with himself.

Because he had been tiptoeing around what mattered the most for too long. His name, his past, his concern― so many things he had never wanted to share yet Rin had found the way to know. And the more Rin knew, the more exposed Haruka was― and he might have never given a damn about nudity up until that very morning, but opening up in such a way terrified him.

But Rin would keep learning, with his hungry eyes and his silent steps and his sharp mind.

At this point, Haruka’s only option was learning, as well.

No matter how scared he was.

“…No,” Rin eventually answered. His shoulders slumped down, defeated. “That’s the problem.

“You should leave when I can still let you go.”

Up until then, there were many circumstances that had made Haruka’s life far from ordinary, most of them caused by the creature that barely dared to look him in the eye.

But that night, as wind blew hard enough to tear the fluffy head of a dandelion off, as small, glowing feathers flew around them― as they tangled with Rin’s hair and stuck to Haruka’s cheeks, Haruka understood the riddles Rin’s thousands of inner restraints made him speak into as something not quite unusual.

He, too, had some idea of what being completely terrified at his own heartbeat felt like.

Haruka’s hand trembled when it reached for the front of Rin’s t-shirt― impatience, fear, anger and urgency twisted knots within him somehow Rin’s parted lips could untie. And Haruka thought about the taunting edge in the corner of his mouth, the pink in his cheeks and the trembling light in his eyes, pulled him closer and leant forwards to find two surprised gasps in the middle.

Rin’s eyes were still wide open when Haruka drew back a little, before inching forwards to burn the creases of his lips against Haruka’s― his hand reached for the one grabbing a fistful of his clothes, fingers prying Haruka’s clammy grasp off the fabric and intertwining with it.

They were both shaking. Partly because they weren’t even breathing, partly because neither had idea what they were supposed to do― and there was something soothing to their shared ineptitude.

But Haruka learnt that Rin’s lips were as hot as the flames he lit up in his palms, that his eyes weren’t threatening when there was no distance to keep anymore. His hand froze before finding the demigod’s cheek, though, at the sharp teeth dragging along his lower lip.

Haruka flinched back, pressed his lips together― not out of fear, not even in response to Rin’s visible confusion.

“Th-that’s― I… I…”

The cascade of stuttered apologies never got anywhere; it froze in the back of Rin’s throat at the slightest shake of Haruka’s head, the two of them struggling to regain some control over their breathing.

But the thing was, Rin never apologised.

Fortunately.

Because there were a couple of things he had already expressed regret over, and Haruka didn’t want that moment to become one of them.

He slowly brought the hand that was still frozen –the one that wasn’t tangled with Rin’s– to his right shoulder, then moved it to press his fingers against the left one; and Rin’s panic subsided the tiniest bit.

_(«It’s alright».)_

The second Rin’s lips met his a third time, now conscientiously keeping his teeth away, as he finally reached for the increasing heat in his cheek, Haruka stopped caring about keeping his heart inside his chest.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the world outside the island where these two idiots are living with a dragon still exists.
> 
> Now talking about this one, what do you think? Come yell at me~


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

 

By the time dawn came, the lights in the flowers had died down.

Sunlight cast three shadows on the grass; two of them were nearly together, their owners drifting away only to escape the humidity clinging to their skin.

Haruka opened his eyes to Rin’s lazy gaze; the demigod’s lips quirked up with a tentative smile, face half-hidden behind untidy red locks.

It only lasted a second, though; soon something akin to terror took over his expression, then he turned around until all Haruka could see was his back and the tips of his red ears.

He was quite impressed.

The night prior, Haruka had been pretty sure Rin had used up his ability to blush for this whole lifetime; in the demigod’s defence, their attempts to make kissing work had been embarrassing at best. Haruka was just lucky enough not to blush that much, to silently laugh with Rin at their uselessness.

But he had taken it for granted that Rin had got over it at some point after growling _fuck this, I’m going to sleep_ and burying his face into the ground.

Haruka sat up to stretch his arms over his head, then crawled towards Rin. The demigod grunted, stubbornly staring forward and making an awful job of ignoring him, so Haruka resorted to poking him in the ribs.

At first nothing happened, only that Rin’s annoyed noises grew louder. But after the twelfth poke he turned his head so sharply it must have hurt to glare at Haruka.

“What do you want?”

Haruka didn’t know whether to be serious or not, but teasing Rin was too tempting not to:

«Good morning».

“For you.” The creases between Rin’s eyebrows only grew deeper as he kept looking at Haruka. “Maybe if you bothered to use telepathy we’d talk faster.”

He got a shrug as an answer― a bit rigid with uncertainty.

“This is stupid.”

Haruka nodded.

“And we suck at kissing.”

Another nod.

For some reason, Haruka’s agreement only seemed to further aggravate Rin, cheeks glowing in the rising sun.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

Haruka tilted his head to the side. He could see where Rin came from― but he hadn’t entirely disliked the night prior. It had been awkward, yes; but also new and exciting and _fun_ , in a way he had never experienced.

«No».

Rin grunted again.

Without any warning, he reached up for Haruka’s t-shirt, brought him down until their lips –and their foreheads– crashed against each other. Haruka steadied himself landing his hands on each side of Rin’s head, but before he could raise one to rub at the sore spot Rin pulled him down again, caught his lower lip between sharp teeth that this time didn’t startle him.

Wherever Rin’s frustration came from, most of it vanished when Haruka drew back.

“You know,” he mused, rubbing at his own forehead, “I suck at taking hostages.”

Haruka bit down onto his lower lip to conceal a smile.

«How many people have you kidnapped before?»

“Enough to know making out with you is a bad idea.” Rin sighed, and when he closed his eyes he didn’t look as embarrassed as he did frustrated, in that hysterical, hilarious way Haruka was learning was exclusively _his_. “I hate you.”

«I don’t», he replied, but the demigod didn’t see it.

He opened an eye, and his smile as he raised a hand to brush Haruka’s black hair aside to see his forehead, reddened from the blow, was brighter than the sunrise.

“…Wanna go for a walk?”

 

 

 

 

 

While, admittedly, there wasn’t much to see in the giant spider of an island Haruka had spent the latest month in, he didn’t expect Rin to guide him to the lowest point on the surface and then turn abruptly towards the entrance of the sirens’ cave. Perhaps Winnie had seen it coming, Haruka reasoned upon realising the dragon had stayed lazing around instead of following them.

Rin must have sensed his uneasiness, because he spun around when Haruka’s steps hesitated.

“Hey, it’s fine. We’re just going to talk to them.”

«What about?»

“Humans.”

Haruka frowned.

«Humans?»

“Sirens are knowledgeable about a lot of stuff.” Rin tucked a red lock behind his ear. “Mostly stuff related to the sea… Under different circumstances I’d find out myself, but I don’t want to risk it. The only problem is that information isn’t cheap. That’s why you’re important.

“They know enough to fear me… Apparently being a demigod isn’t the kind of thing you can hide.” Rin scratched his chin, pensive; but Haruka wasn’t surprised about the fact. Sirens communicated through telepathy, and if it worked anything like humans’ they must have already noticed how powerful Rin’s mental presence was. “But we still need to pay.”

Haruka wanted to express his many doubts, but Rin caught his hands before he could. The grip was firm, even though his cheeks had lit up again.

“With information,” he clarified, smiling. “Their lives are so long they’re practically immortal, so knowledge is what they bargain with… Although I can’t guarantee it’ll be enough, and they already showed interest in you. I hope you aren’t too fond of your legs…”

Haruka snatched his hands back from Rin’s, glaring as shock took over the demigod’s expression.

“…I was joking.” Haruka rolled his eyes; far from sorry, Rin’s laughter bounced against the black legs of the island, vibrated across the always angry waves. “I’m only bringing you because I bet you know more than I do.”

With a huff, Haruka allowed Rin to take his hand and guide him towards the entrance of the cave, not without replying before Rin looked ahead:

«Why would I know more?»

“Hm, well, for starters I bet you went to school and stuff,” Rin explained, voice echoing against the black walls. “I was home-schooled until I was twelve, but I haven’t learnt much since then.”

Too focused on not falling off the path, Haruka didn’t poke at Rin to get his attention; but he did replay the names that had fallen from his lips when his fever had peaked. _Lori_ , _Russell_ ― people Rin had apologised to in his delirium, whose identity Haruka could only guess.

Even if Rin had grown up away from society, Haruka had quickly realised the demigod couldn’t have been always alone. He spoke not only Japanese, but also some English, could write and read; and those were skills one couldn’t learn on their own.

But that only raised more questions. Had Russell and Lori been the ones who –illegally– brought Rin up? Where had he stayed, hidden from hunters for at least twelve years? They seemed important for the demigod― there had been fondness in Rin’s voice when he had mentioned Russell. But if Rin loved them, why was he alone, then? What had happened?

Was that related to the sorrow consuming him?

“We’re― oi.” Haruka snapped out of his daydream when he walked into Rin’s broad back, blinked at him in confusion. “I could’ve taken you here,” he admitted, “but it’d attract humans’ attention.”

Haruka lit his fingers up, raised his arm to illuminate the water. At first sight it looked empty, but soon he caught glimpses of the shadows lurking beneath the surface, drawing irregular shapes until they got tired of playing and four heads with skin made of patches of seaweed and sponges breached.

[ _Rin!_ ]

Haruka had been expecting it, but predictability didn’t help his unease when the four sirens spoke in his head at once.

“Hello.” Rin sat down. “How have you been?”

But they had already spotted Haruka.

[ _You brought the human!_ ]

[ _What’s your name?_ ]

[ _Your thighs look delicious…_ ]

“Stop that!” Rin ordered, more annoyed than worried; Haruka still took a cautious step back. “He didn’t came here to be harassed.”

[ _Then why is he here?_ ]

It was hard to tell, but Haruka thought the siren that had asked was the one lying on her belly on a rock opposite them. He had no idea how long her tail actually was, but its bright scales sank into the water, its shadow merging with the black depths of the cave.

“Because I need information.”

[ _Were you born yesterday, Carabela?_ ] Haruka’s eyes widened when he recognised the siren with anemones in her hair― Coral was it? [ _He wants knowledge._ ]

Rin’s back tensed; Haruka couldn’t see his face, wrapped in shadows behind his dishevelled hair, but he wasn’t sure the sirens had noticed.

“Well, yeah. Business.”

[ _What do you want to know?_ ]

Haruka shifted his weight from one foot to the other when Rin glanced at him― he took a couple of steps towards the edge of the black rock, reluctantly dropping himself next to the demigod.

“How close hunters are.”

Coral grinned with her three rows of teeth.

[ _And what do you have to pay for it?_ ]

Rin grunted. “Drop the drama, Little Mermaid. What do you want this time?”

Carabela raised her tail above the water, then dropped four metres of her body on the surface, splashing both Rin and Haruka.

Giggles that sounded like chirping echoed in the cave; it was a strange sound, and the sirens’ voices reverberated oddly hollow in their minds.

[ _Two questions_ ], she answered, as if it were obvious.

“Like hell.” Rin’s anger was evident. “I’m only asking you one thing.”

Carabela sank her arm –a limb that ended in claws, joined by thin webbing– so quickly Haruka could barely see it; there was a small fish in her grip when she pulled it out.

She took her time to eat it, to tear the still alive animal bit by bit.

[ _How badly do you want the answer, demigod?_ ]

Rin’s growl was low enough to be missed― at least it would have been, if its deep tones hadn’t vibrated up Haruka’s spine.

“That’s irrelevant. One question for one question, that’s the deal.”

By the time the fish stopped struggling, either giving up or already dead, Carabela had eaten most of it.

[ _But there are two of you_ ], she insisted, licking at the blood that dribbled down her chin with a long tongue. [ _One question for each._ ]

The stubborn silence Rin was lost in was as worrying as it was dangerous; even though now Haruka could see the demigod’s profile, his eyes were narrowed, tension coiling around the thin line his lips were pressed into.  But beyond that obvious displease, Haruka couldn’t tell anything― what was he so worked up about?

After a couple of seconds, he tentatively tugged at Rin’s shirt.

«What’s the problem with questions?» Perhaps Haruka was too naïve, but telling the sirens stuff sounded a lot more alluring than giving them a limb.

Rin sighed.

“Sirens’ questions are never ordinary. They’re the kind that you have to rip your heart out and set it before them in order to answer…” He bit the inside of his cheeks. “Are you okay with that?”

Haruka took a couple of seconds to consider it.

At this point, there wasn’t much more important information he could hide from Rin. There hadn’t been since the beginning, and perhaps things would have been easier if the demigod had told Haruka he recognised him the second he noticed the white scar across his throat. And he didn’t intend to speak _to Rin_ , anyway.

Not that way.

He nodded.

Rin grunted in response. “You don’t know what you’re saying… But whatever. I warned you.” He glanced at the sirens. “Your questions.”

The sirens kept quiet for a while― Haruka was aware they were having a conversation neither Rin nor he were invited to, but he didn’t even consider prying; they would undoubtedly notice, and regardless of how much they respected Rin’s will every part of those creatures was optimised to kill.

[ _We’ve decided!_ ] Haruka tilted his head at the siren with starfishes stuck to her skin; she was familiar, but he couldn’t remember her name. [ _The first question is for Rin._ ]

She, Coral and the other siren looked at Carabela, expectant.

[ _What do you know about your first life?_ ]

Rin’s eyes widened, but he didn’t look surprised as much as he did shocked― he had obviously not expected the sirens to hit _that_ spot. He avoided looking at Haruka as he replied, quiet enough to be missed with the rumbling of the waves outside the cave.

“…Not much, and I’m not that interested,” he admitted. “He… I… I killed a lot of people and was captured by hunters. Then I died. And here I am now.”

Coral made a guttural noise. Haruka had no idea how she had produced it, but the sound dripped impatience.

[ _Lying by omission is still lying._ ]

Rin huffed. “What, do you need me to spell it out for you?” Haruka glanced at his hands, curled in tight fists on his lap. “Apparently I had a lover, who died― I guess not peacefully, since I went crazy with grief and lost contact with my human side. Of course I had to be put down, like a rabid dog.”

The calm in his words was unsettling. Rin’s voice was always expressive –it trembled, grew higher when he was embarrassed, became louder in sync with his frustration–; but now there was nothing in his cadence that gave away how he felt about what he was saying, about what his past self had done.

On itself, that was enough of a warning.

Haruka bit down onto his lower lip. He had read his share of books about demigods when he was younger and waiting for the monster’s return― that demigods’ two natures were never at peace with each other, that sometimes their wilder, more powerful half took over and they reached a state above human ideas of good and evil and gave in to their divine essence.

And in spite of old beliefs, gods did not love humans, nor did they care about them more than humans minded the insects they crushed as they walked, without even realising they had ever existed at all.

“…Happy now?”

Haruka glanced away from the sculpture about to snap in half Rin was becoming.

[ _No, but it can’t be helped_ ], Coral replied, disdainful. [ _We waited so long to make this question, and you know nothing interesting…_ ]

“I’ll research in depth to satisfy your morbid curiosity next time I need a favour,” Rin shot back, sarcasm sharp enough to hurt even himself. “Now make Haru uncomfortable for a change.”

[ _Ah, so he has a name!_ ] Rin flinched at the realisation of his mistake, but Haruka didn’t particularly mind― the only reason he hadn’t outright told Rin was spite, it wasn’t supposed to be a secret. [ _We wanted to ask something different, anyway… Nácar?_ ]

The siren with starfish as pets wasn’t as visibly excited as the others, but her eyes shone with hunger.

[ _How did you feel before coming here?_ ]

Haruka sensed Rin’s stare on him, but he didn’t move.

After listening to the sirens’ question for the demigod, he had understood that, contrary to what Rin had told him, they weren’t interested in science or history― but rather information that wasn’t taught at school, experiences closer to the heart. He had been expecting a question regarding his throat, or maybe his muteness; they must have picked up on that already, as the scar was visible enough in the light coming from his fingers.

But it wasn’t any of that, and Haruka wasn’t sure he would have an answer to that question even if he were the one to ponder about it by himself.

His life so far had been as ordinary as it could under his circumstances― living with his grandmother, becoming friends with the neighbours' son, going to school and slowly opening up to more people. It was true the nightmares had been a constant since he could remember, but other than that…

He had been happy, hadn’t he?

Even in his inner monologue, Haruka knew that was a lie. Happiness was too big a word when he wasn’t sure his father even liked him, when fear had always been creeping up in the back of his mind. When Makoto’s friends often gave up on learning sign language and hung up with other people instead and his heart stung with rejection even though all he wanted was to be alone and normal.

Haruka searched for the sirens’ minds. They were as clear as the water flooding the cave, bright and clean unlike the viscous abyss he had to constantly force out of his perception. His stomach shrunk when he glanced at Rin’s curious expression, sorry for leaving the demigod out of the conversation.

But Rin’s mind was painful.

[ _Good_ ], he tried, and it felt as inappropriate as _happy_. [ _Nearly ordinary._ ]

Coral made that guttural noise again; it crept up Haruka’s spine, the hairs in his arms standing on end.

[ _Not a talkative man, I see._ ] Rin’s glance hopped from the siren to him; Haruka realised then Coral had purposefully blocked him out. [ _But I meant in comparison with now…_ ]

[ _Then you should have been more concise_ ], Haruka interrupted, narrowing his eyes. [ _I already answered._ ]

Coral’s eyes widened; still lying on her rock, Carabela giggled, sincerely amused.

[ _The human bites!_ ]

[ _I bet that’s why Rin is so tamed lately_ ], Nácar guessed.

Haruka huffed.

[ _Stop._ ]

“Did you know ignoring someone is rude?” Rin interjected, annoyed. His voice echoed in the grotto, too loud. “Have you already answered? Then it’s your turn, you harpies.”

The four sirens exchanged a glance; it was the one whose name Haruka didn’t know, who had not said anything yet, who spoke. Her voice was deeper than Coral, Nácar and Carabela’s, it seemed to come from the deepest trenches of the ocean; and Haruka knew, somehow, that she was way older than her friends.

[ _The hunters are close, Rin. The camouflage keeps the island hidden, but it’s only a matter of time before they locate it; once they do, they’ll find a way to get past the spell._ ]

Rin scratched the back of his neck, irritation replaced by concern.

“Ah, fuck… Do they know it’s me?”

The siren nodded. [ _And there are a lot of them._ ]

“Fuck,” Rin repeated, quieter.

In spite of his frustration, though, it seemed there wasn’t much else to do.

Haruka went to follow Rin when the demigod stood up and turned around to leave, but he froze when Coral’s cold, slippery hand curled around his wrist.

[ _He’s hurting, Human._ ]

Haruka’s first instinct was to push the siren off him; the magic vibrating through his skin extinguished, though, when Coral’s grip tightened.

[ _Let me go_ ], he ordered, but she only pushed herself up on the black stone with her free hand, glared down at him.

[ _You’re not in the best position to give orders_ ], Coral hissed. [ _Human magic doesn’t affect us, so stop acting like a child…_ ] When her thin tongue licked Haruka’s neck, leaving a trail of saliva along the relief of his scar, he had the feeling she was whispering in his ear; but her words were only in his head. [ _He’s changing, and it’s your fault… So leave. Leave before it’s too late._ ]

Coral relinquished her grip, dropped herself back into the water without splashing; it was then that Rin halted and turned around, probably because Haruka hadn’t moved yet.

Still, as he accepted Rin’s hand to pull himself up, Haruka shuddered at the siren’s last warning, echoing from the depths of the cave.

[ _Leave before he loses himself._ ]

 

 

 

 

 

It was sunny, but pessimism made the day pale, grey when Haruka and Rin walked out of the cave.

“Care about explaining why you left me out of the conversation?” were his first words― he spun around, nearly glared as Haruka glanced down.

«They were the ones who asked», he signed the answer he had been preparing since Coral let go of him.

Rin huffed. “Good excuse, but your still heard _my_ answer, you ass. Do you live with an evil stepmother or something?”

«With my grandmother. My father travels a lot because of his job». Haruka wasn’t sure Rin knew enough _shuwa_ to understand _my father is afraid to look me in the face because I resemble my mother too much_ , so he kept that bit to himself.

“Oh.” It was obvious Rin hadn’t been expecting that answer, but he changed the topic before Haruka had the time to wonder what he thought his life in Iwatobi was like. “Well, it was good to meet you,” the demigod whined before dramatically plopping himself down on the overgrown grass, face down. “It’s a pity… I really like this place.”

Perhaps if he hadn’t spent the latest month burning down islets he wouldn’t have been noticed, Haruka reasoned. He supposed Rin was well aware of that, though, so he only sat down next to him.

«What are we going to do?»

Rin sighed, closed his eyes. “I have no idea… What do you want to do?”

Haruka pulled up his knees, leant his chin between them. The water often had the answers he needed, yet in that moment he only stared at the sea to buy some time.

The obvious answer was _leaving_ ― his grandmother must be worried, Makoto and the others must be worried and not even his father hated him enough not to be a bit concerned about him being kidnapped by the demigod that had killed his wife. And besides…

‘ _He’s hurting_ ’, Coral had said.

Oddly enough, something within Haruka wanted to rebel against her words― he couldn’t tell whether she was right and Rin had changed, but the demigod looked less tired than when they had met, and his smiles were less biting and reached his eyes… He didn’t look in pain.

…Or was Haruka the only one who saw that because he wanted to make his presence important?

Haruka hadn’t brought his notebook with him― the more he taught Rin, the less he needed to write. But when Rin opened his eyes, just in time to see his hesitation, he wished he had a way to reply that didn’t make the tremor in his hands so obvious.

«I don’t know».

Rin sighed. “…Are you sure you don’t want to leave?”

The way Haruka’s gaze wavered before avoiding the demigod’s didn’t pass unnoticed.

But it seemed the only answer he had was, well.

«I don’t know».

Because everything about Rin seemed made with the specific purpose of drawing Haruka close, and he would be damned if he ever regretted giving in― despite everything, despite all Rin’s existence had meant for years, there was something about him Haruka yearned for in many different, inexplicable ways. But Rin had been right the night prior –a lifetime ago, before the disaster that first kiss had been– and the sirens’ explanations did but support that posture.

‘ _Leave before he loses himself._ ’

When Haruka’s lips found Rin’s, before he could say anything else, it was with the cold weight of reality clinging to his bones and Coral’s words stuck in his ears.

It was to forget. To forget circumstances, to forget past lives and the faraway threat of hunters that were dangerously close.

To forget about everything that wasn’t Rin, because if a demigod weren’t powerful enough to shield him from the world, nothing else would.

He knew this wouldn’t last forever. Even without the hunters, Haruka had a life in Iwatobi, no matter how uneventful yet unusual, which he couldn’t not return to. And sooner or later, the island would be found. Rin’s power was too great not to be detected― and the day that happened he would be in danger, forced to run away once again with Winnie.

From what Haruka knew, most of Rin’s life so far had consisted on running away from a past he had never been able to control.

And he still couldn’t let go.

The end hovered upon them, yet Haruka’s only complaint was that Rin bit him in his haste to pin him against the ground.

 

 

 

 

 

When he had kissed Rin for the first time, with earthquakes running through his hands and heartbeat clinging to the very foundation of his bones, Haruka hadn’t had much of a reason, other than he wanted to.

As usual, he hadn’t stopped to think about anything― where reasoning skills usually were, he found only Rin, with yearning in his eyes and fireflies in his hair; certainly, he hadn’t considered their circumstances, or the darkness eating away at Rin’s mind or the power Haruka was giving him with just one kiss.

And perhaps Haruka wasn’t the best at considering all elements and predicting what his actions might cause, but he couldn’t have expected the utter disaster that came afterwards.

At first, Haruka thought Rin would start avoiding him again; flight, he had already learnt, was the demigod’s default reaction to everything― and Haruka couldn’t blame him. And in a way, he did run away from conflict. Or, well, he ran away from thinking about it― and Haruka couldn’t blame him, not when Rin hugged him tight enough to squeeze his own doubts out of his mind, when their hands grew braver to explore new ways to drown the noise of reality out.

But when Rin did leave, without any pattern, it took him longer to come back― days Haruka spent watching the horizon from the highest point of the island even though he rationally _knew_ the demigod couldn’t have left, entire nights where he stared as Winnie curled up on a bed that was too big for him. Countless hours wishing he at least heard the dreaded explosions to have an idea of what Rin was up to.

During that time, he often thought about Coral’s words― he thought about Rin, about himself, about how they didn’t even know how long they had left and how they should have an idea about what to do when the hunters found the island. About how Haruka refused to think about any of the thousands of possibilities that made up the future and his selfishness was hurting them both.

One day, at dawn, Haruka was startled out of a light sleep by the creaking of the door― it was the first time Rin gave himself away, and Haruka only was able to hear it out of the hyper-awareness he had worked himself up into after nearly forty-eight hours of not knowing anything about him.

Rin’s stealthy steps into the bedroom halted when he noticed the glare pinning him to the wooden floor. His eyes widened, so tired Haruka wondered how he kept himself awake― but then again, the only force that still could help Haruka to procrastinate resting was plain stubbornness.

“Good morning,” Rin greeted, quietly.

Curled up on the bed, Winnie raised his head at his owner’s voice.

‘ _Good morning._ ’

‘ _Good morning_ ’ _?_

Nearly two days gone, two sleepless nights, and all he had to say was _good morning_.

Exhaustion joined gravity in a failed attempt to frustrate Haruka’s moves to stand up; Rin took a cautious step back when he approached, hands raised.

But Haruka only used them to speak.

«Stop doing this». It wasn’t an order as much as it was a plea.

“I’m―…” Rin trailed off, bit down an apology Haruka didn’t want. “Why are you so angry?”

Haruka looked down― his arms fell to his sides, caught off-guard by the question. Not because he didn’t have an answer, but because he was perfectly aware of what it was.

It wasn’t about Rin running away.

It wasn’t even about missing him―

It was about the fact Haruka _couldn’t_ turn his brain off, not alone, and envy was driving him crazy.

What kind of person did that make him?

Rin’s index found the underside of Haruka’s chin, forced him to tilt his head up to look at him. The sorrow in his eyes was deeper than the pond in the cave whose bottom Haruka had never caught a glimpse of, than the sea that had tried to eat him whole.

Haruka wanted to run away, to get as far from it as he could. But it wasn’t Rin’s rough fingertip what kept his gaze trapped in those eyes― it was his expression itself.

“You know, right?” he asked, quieter than a dream.

Yes, Haruka knew.

And Rin did, too.

But Haruka didn’t want to hear it― not again, not when speaking those words would only make them harder to ignore.

The kiss caught Rin with his lips parted, came with enough force to push him back― he stumbled across the hallway, brought Haruka with him until he hit the wall, arms already pulling him close. They were roughly the same height –even if Rin was slightly taller, like he bragged about as if it were something he had obtained with conscious effort–; just at the right distance to fit naturally.

Tips of red locks tickled Haruka’s cheeks, but he didn’t mind; his hands slid down to the hem of Rin’s t-shirt, then crawled up bare skin― always warm, always shuddering against Haruka’s cold touch but never retreating. The demigod’s fingers dug into his hips, indexes slipping, cautious, beneath the elastic of pants Haruka had borrowed from his chest in childlike wonder the day prior.

And Haruka wasn’t naïve enough not to know what he wanted, and as Rin abandoned his lips and tore a sharp inhale off him when he found his earlobe he was too fixated on grounds he had never ventured into with company; but something halted the world when he tugged at Rin’s t-shirt, which at this point was but a hindrance, shattered dawn in broken rays of sun that found them as the demigod froze. Haruka’s head lolled forward, out of inertia alone, his forehead meeting Rin’s lips, feeling the ragged breathing burning between them.

“I,” Rin started, and his voice sounded too loud, “I’m tired.”

Haruka didn’t move, even though he still had Rin cornered― even though he knew he actually _didn’t_. He stared at the demigod’s clavicles, rising and falling quickly, until his eyelids itched, heavy, and his sight blurred.

The tension building up below his navel was still frustrating.

It didn’t help when Rin’s grip grew tighter, even as Haruka drew back― arched his spine to meet those red eyes.

«Stop doing this», he signed again with sluggish moves.

The world was silent when Rin danced with Haruka towards the bed, when Winnie took off the mattress before they fell in a mess of tangled limbs. Rin buried his face in Haruka’s chest, trapped one of his legs between his.

 _He’s hurting_ , Coral had said.

Well, so was Haruka.

It would be uncomfortable soon, but in that moment Haruka only carded his fingers through Rin’s hair, wishing he could unwind his pain as easily as he undid the knots tangling red locks.

“Do you really stand me at all,” he said, more than asked, into Haruka’s chest.

But it was too early –or too late– for Haruka to give him an answer.

Rin fell asleep shortly afterwards― Haruka felt his breathing grow deeper, calmer, the arms around his waist loosening their grip.

In spite of his own exhaustion, though, it took Haruka a while to follow him to a place where circumstances didn’t matter.

 

 

 

 

 

It didn’t hit Haruka until the third time he awoke from his slumber, around noon, that this was the closest to Rin he had ever slept.

He felt hot and sticky and gross from the summer clinging to his skin, but Rin’s embrace was contradictory nice― somehow the demigod was still asleep, still holding onto Haruka like a lifeline, but behind the dirty hair stuck to his skin his expression was calm. Beneath the smell of sweat there was a scent that reminded of summer rain, of the grass he rolled over when he played with Winnie, stronger than the one that clung to his clothes.

Haruka watched his closed eyes, his half-open mouth. Rin looked younger without that frown that stuck to his forehead every waking hour, without the pained creases fever contorted his face with.

Did demigods dream? Yes― Haruka felt they were too human not to. But then, what were Rin’s dreams made of? He couldn’t shake the idea that the hungry abyss Rin’s mind was trapped in devoured every bright bit in his thoughts off his head; but then again Haruka himself had been safe from nightmares since he arrived to the island.

He bit the inside of his cheeks when he closed his eyes, not sure when curiosity had made the choice for him.

Rin’s essence was all over the place, powerful enough to swallow everyone else’s in the island, even the sirens’. Haruka’s eyelids fluttered, uncertain, when he found himself once more at the edge of the void― and it was just as vast as the first time, and he was about to do something he loathed because of how intimate it was, but he was aware that there would be no better chance than now, when Rin’s guard was at its lowest.

His conscience didn’t quieten down, though. And Haruka hated it for being right― but when he allowed the abyss inside his head there were dozens of whispers drowning it in incoherent pieces of thoughts and as he glanced around it reminded Haruka of the sirens too much to be anywhere near pleasant.

Even at its calmest― Rin’s mind was a terrible place to be in.

Haruka drew back, jumped out; his entire form shook, fuelled by his unsettled pulse and lungs that hesitated to keep breathing, and had he not been trapped between Rin’s arms he would have stumbled out of the room, too.

But he stayed still, even as Rin stirred, as his eyes fluttered open and glanced up in confusion.

“…You had a nightmare too?”

Haruka pressed his trembling lips together― as if his vocal cords were suddenly going to heal just to betray him and tell Rin about the incursion in his mind.

 _I’m sorry_ , he wanted to say.

But his hands were frozen and his heart still ached with a pain that didn’t belong to him.

Rin interpreted his stillness as a _yes_.

 

 

 

 

 

The end crept upon them.

It was as invisible as it was obvious. It was in the cadence of Rin’s voice as he pointedly avoided looking at Haruka, in the stubbornness Winnie insisted on playing with him with. In the white noise filling his skull as he lost all will to keep it out of his thoughts and hid his face behind his hands.

It was so, so close, the slightest move could attract its attention and make everything explode.

 

 

 

 

 

In hindsight, it was the most stupid occurrence.

It happened that very afternoon, during a meal that might have been either breakfast or dinner; Rin had snorted at the decreasing amount of food in the cupboard, complained about how there was no fruit.

«But there’s meat», Haruka replied, confused.

“I can’t eat only that,” Rin huffed, taking the last banana. “And the moment I transform to get some it’ll be over…” He bit onto the fruit and munched on it, peel and all.

«If you hadn’t spent all this time destroying things».

Something dangerous flashed across Rin’s gaze when he glanced up, frustration embittering his tone. “And what for?”

Haruka narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t as if he had asked Rin to overwork himself out of guilt.

«What’s wrong?»

Rin peeled the rest of the banana off, gave the skin to Winnie and ate the fruit in two bites. “Now you want to talk?”

Haruka had no idea what had got in Rin all of a sudden― perhaps it was piled up resentment, maybe all the things they hadn’t said since the morning they talked with the sirens.

«Are you angry?»

“For fuck’s sake, stop laughing at me.” Rin nearly growled. “I―… I’ve been an idiot all this time, thinking maybe I could―… that you…”

«Rin».

The demigod trailed off when Haruka stood up, watched as he spelt his name― the same way he had done after nearly drowning, teaching him how to properly move his hand.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he grunted after a short silence, baring his teeth. “You… You said it was only for people you like, and yet after all of this…” The table shook under Rin’s fist, a black ring burning the wood around it. “What do you even want from me?”

Those words were vaguely familiar― yet Haruka couldn’t quite place them. He had said –maybe signed, maybe written– them, but when had it been?

«What do _you_ want?»

“Your damn telepathy!”

The cry resounded in the hut, so loud Winnie cowered in the fireplace.

But it wasn’t that what Haruka took a step back from. It was the sincere hurt in Rin’s eyes, the constant conflict in his expression― every battle he fought against his self-restraint, every fight he lost. Understanding his pent-up frustration.

“I don’t care what you do, I really don’t, but what have I done wrong?” Rin glanced around, as if looking for the right words. “You use it even with the fucking sirens, but after―… Why not me?”

Haruka swallowed down, the knot in his throat scratching its way down.

 _It’s not that_ , he wanted to say― to scream even.

But his voice had died the very day Rin had been born.

«It hurts».

Rin froze at the sign, undoubtedly recognising it.

“…Huh?”

«Your mind». Haruka glanced down, nearly grateful when Winnie scurried towards the door between him and Rin. «Talking to you».

There was no reply; Haruka didn’t even dare to look up. He could hear Rin’s breathing hitching here and there, he could nearly sense the buzzing of his brain as he pieced Haruka’s words together.

But how could he?

“My mind…hurts _you_?”

 

_How can you talk about pain, when this is what he lives with every day?_

 

Haruka nodded again, unable to say anything more.

It was curiosity what made him look up again― because Rin kept quiet, because he hadn’t even moved his feet; because the whole island was awfully silent. Even the waves had ceased to make noise.

And Rin…

Rin.

“Ah…”

Rin didn’t look angry, and that was the worst part.

«Rin».

“That’s new.”

Later, Haruka would damn his relief when Winnie barged back in the hut.

Even if he clung to Rin and tore his t-shirt, even if he tore _Haruka’s_ when Rin pushed the dragon off him; whatever good he did was outweighed by the disaster waiting for them outside.

 

 

 

 

 

There were three vessels in front of the black cliffs; two of them had the emblem of the police painted on their sides, but the third, bigger one, belonged to hunters― Haruka was familiar with the dragons intertwined inside a circle of flames that stared at them from the rough sea.

Haruka had no idea how they had passed unnoticed; he had looked through the window before eating, in that same direction, and hadn’t seen anything― as far as he knew, camouflaging such big objects was quite a feat for humans. Even Rin had had trouble to hide the island; it was that what had seeped out whatever strength he had left a few days prior.

But the truth was that hunters had found Rin’s hideout.

Haruka staggered behind Rin when the demigod pulled at his wrist, heading closer to the coastline with him; air abandoned his lungs when he realised there were hunters already on the island― they had stabbed the black cliff with harpoons, and now their colleagues were crawling along the ropes tied to the sharp points to board the island.

A strangled noise left Rin’s throat.

“Why,” he hissed, barely audible. “It was―… this wasn’t supposed to-to…”

Haruka glanced at him. Not even the dying sun was enough to paint a face that had lost all colour; and Haruka had seen Rin angry, had seen him teasing and bashful and sorry, but nothing could have prepared him to see such fear engraved in every sharp angle that shaped Rin’s face.

Haruka nudged at him, seemed to momentarily snap him out of his panic.

“It always ends up like this,” Rin whispered, and it was nearly a sob. “How many times are they going to kill me?!”

To Haruka’s horror, the three people that had already arrived heard him.

“Is that… It’s the target! And…”

“It’s not alone.”

_‘It’?_

It was ridiculous, that what angered Haruka the most was hearing hunters refer to Rin as if he were an object.

“Proceed cautiously; that’s Nanase’s son…”

_…Ah._

That was a point in their favour.

Haruka tugged at Rin’s hand, made the demigod follow him towards the forest, Winnie flying close behind. With three armed vessels, it would be impossible for Rin to escape in that direction, but if by some miracle the island wasn’t completely surrounded…

“I don’t want to leave,” he heard him huff― it came out breathless, more air than sound as he panted between the trees. “I didn’t do anything!”

Putting his kidnapping aside, Haruka mostly agreed with him; but he didn’t stop to tell the demigod, focused on putting as much distance as possible between Rin and the hunters.

They ran past the entrance of the cave where they had spent so many afternoons floating together. For a second Haruka considered hiding inside― but he was well aware there was no exit, and as soon as the island were under the hunters’ control they would be trapped there, where all they could do was waiting to be found.

Haruka had walked through the island many times during the long hours he had spent alone, but he wasn’t that used to the part further from Rin’s hut; there the trees grew closer, the narrow corridors between them broken by roots the forest had been too lazy to bury within the ground.

“Haru…” Haruka could tell Rin found running across nature easier than he did, but his fingers didn’t respond when he ordered them to let go of the demigod, even if all he was achieving was slowing him down; a selfish voice argued that the hunters wouldn’t hurt Rin as long as they could hit him. Besides, Haruka could already see the end of the forest… Just a bit more, and then… “This is―”

Out of the corner of his eye, Haruka caught a glimpse of Rin’s arm shooting towards him; but it arrived too late, when his foot got caught in a mess of rocks and fallen branches and inertia brought him down, the blow beating Haruka’s egoism as pain burnt up his leg, bore a hole in his skull.

But Rin’s hands were there again when Haruka struggled to sit up, lifting him with insulting ease. Through the blood veiling his sight Haruka saw his concern; it took him a couple of seconds to connect the dots, though, and when he did anger flooded him.

Why was Rin wasting his time with him?

«Leave», he signed― or he tried, but blood kept dribbling down his forehead, his cheek. «Leave».

“It’ll take them hours to find you if I leave you outside the path,” Rin hissed― Haruka blinked when a different shade of red invaded his field of vision. Why was Rin carrying him on his back? “Hey, are you listening?”

Haruka was, but barely. He tried to hug Rin’s shoulders, but by the time he located his arms they had reached the end of the forest and the demigod was leaving him on the ground.

 _Your hair_ , he wanted to say― and his inability to focus was more frustrating than the pain splitting his head open. _It’s not the colour of blood._

Neither were his eyes, Haruka realised.

He slapped his cheeks, relinquishing his useless observations; while it didn’t hurt half as much as his sprained ankle, watching his palms as they fell on his thighs –one blackened with dirt, the other painted red– was enough to focus on the world around him when he looked up.

They had reached the small terrace that separated the forest from the cliff― it wasn’t as low as where Haruka usually fished, but it was barely a couple of metres higher than that place. As he had hoped, there were no ships on that side of the island― that would make Rin’s escape easier. Haruka flinched at the warm weight that clung to his shoulder, watched a demigod pet a dragon and thought he would have laughed had someone described the scene to him less than two months prior.

“I can’t take Winnie with me; he can’t stand long trips,” Rin explained. “Hey, Haru, take care of him, will you? He’d bite anyone else’s hands off.”

Haruka nodded. He wanted a proper farewell, wanted to pull Rin close to kiss him and refuse to let go and maybe run away with him, but even through his dulled senses he could hear the hunters’ strides, feel the vibrations of the ground beneath.

«Leave», he signed again. «I’ll give Winnie back when I can».

Rin chuckled, perhaps at him.

But the sound was cut off by a sound that tore through the twilight, cold enough to freeze the sun itself. Rin choked out a cry, stumbling a couple of steps back as he grabbed his upper arm; it wasn’t until Haruka saw the red trailing down from beneath his palm –darker than his hair, than his eyes– that he understood, as the blood covered the scar of the wound Haruka had given him the day he arrived at the island.

 _It was at sunset, too_.

Haruka turned around, recognised one of the figures pointing at them –no, at Rin– with silvery guns. Smoke danced with the air, leaving the barrel of the one his father carried with trembling hands.

“Give it up,” the man ordered in that stern, unwavering tone Haruka was used to. “I don’t know what your sister was thinking… Haruka, can you stand?”

“…’Haru _ka_ ’?” Rin repeated. And in spite of the tears peeking from the corner of his eyes, in spite of the bullet lodged in his arm and the fear clinging to his entire form, there was amusement in his voice.

But then another gunshot echoed in the frozen sunset, followed by Winnie’s screech. It didn’t reach Rin, but the demigod flinched at the noise, seemed to shrink into himself.

“Shut up, you monster.” Nanase Ayumu was a serious man, but Haruka had never seen such ice in his eyes; shooting when someone else was so close to the target was dangerous, but his father didn’t seem to realise Haruka was there. “Haven’t you done enough harm already?”

«He didn’t do anything!» Perhaps Haruka, in his frenzy, got a couple of signs wrong― not that his father noticed. «I just fell. I fell».

It was impossible Nanase-san hadn’t seen his signs in his peripheral vision, but he opted to ignore them.

Gritting his teeth through pain, through helplessness, Haruka tried again.

[ _Rin helped me!_ ]

But there was too much hatred in the man’s entire form to listen; rancour poisoned his entire being in a way Haruka had never felt, that turned his stomach. As if, for his father, time hadn’t passed since his wife's death.

“I’ll give you a chance,” he continued, deaf to Haruka’s pleas. “There is a possibility for you to live. But first you have to turn yourself in, or else…”

“You’ll kill me anyway!” Rin cried. He had fallen to his knees; the violent tremors running through his body confirmed the suspicion Haruka had harboured in the back of his mind― his father’s gun wasn’t loaded with ordinary bullets. “As soon as I do something you don’t like, you can just restart the game, right? You can keep trying as much as you want, over and over again…” His voice cracked with tears he could no longer keep at bay, a sob that rattled his entire form. “And I am the monster?”

“I’m saying this for your own good,” Nanase-san growled. Unlike Rin’s, his voice was growing quieter and quieter― and Haruka knew him enough to understand he was getting angrier. “Step away from my son, demigod. You’re in enough trouble already.”

Haruka sought Rin’s eyes, but he wasn’t looking at him― his expression had dropped, the amalgam of terror and fury and anguish tears cut into distressed shards gone.

Frozen claws sunk into Haruka’s every muscle, paralysing him.

 

 _No_.

 

“…Yeah,” he agreed; the calm in his voice sounded unreal, a foreboding paradox. “I guess I’m in a big mess.” Rin’s voice wavered. “All because of you humans… And because I still want to be one.”

 

_No._

 

Haruka felt it before it happened. In the moist breeze that stung the wound in his head, in the millisecond where sunlight extinguished; in the deep noise that came from Rin –not from his throat, but from somewhere in the very core of him.

Whatever survival instinct Haruka might have still left within his system broke his particular curse, pushed him to struggle on his injured foot and scramble away from the demigod.

Rin was disappearing. He was being eaten away at by the most absolute black, the same that devoured the space around him, the grass, the air; layers of darkness over darkness took over the wounded teenager he had been, distorting in fraying shadows, ephemeral mouths opening to swallow everything the red stars the nightmare had for eyes lay on. The monstrosity constantly changed before the humans’ eyes, for they did not possess the ability to directly see such a majestic creature.

Up until a couple of seconds prior, Haruka had thought he had seen Rin transformed. He recalled the shapeless being that had carried him from Iwatobi, the shadow that had pried him off the sea’s suffocating embrace. But it had never been like that― the monster before him had appeared to Haruka only once before, and his dreams had never been able to do it justice.

The terms _unstable state_ and _out of control_ bounced off Haruka’s ears; perhaps, he reasoned, he had hit his head too hard, for he didn’t feel scared as Rin spat fire at the hunters through a dozen mouths, as Winnie’s claws sunk into his skin in visceral fear.

It was the trees which caught fire― and there must be something otherworldly to it, for the flames consumed the canopy at an alarming speed; it was only when Haruka heard the hunters’ screams that he fully understood.

Rin wasn’t human. He had never been, and certainly was the furthest from one in that moment.

And he was angry.

Angry enough to destroy the place he loved so dearly, to indiscriminately attack everyone who got close― even more the ones shooting at the shadows guarding him.

Perhaps it was then when Haruka recognised the terror tightening his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

It felt like a dream.

The place Haruka had grown used to, that he had become so fond of, was on fire. The flames were quickly spreading across the island, a colossal pyre on the back of the spider that stood, brave and tall, against an always hungry sea reflecting the black columns of smoke that asecended to the darkening sky.

And the one responsible for it hung above the edge of the cliff, like a puppet controlled by instincts and the anger Rin loathed with all his being. So black Haruka wondered if the demigod could actually feed on sunlight itself.

But he didn’t advance. Haruka ignored whether the bullets hunters kept ceaselessly shooting had somewhere to lodge themselves into, but the first one –the one his father had shot– was undoubtedly weakening him.

Which in turn made his attacks ferocious, desperate.

Haruka limped towards his father, breathing in deeply when the world danced around him even though the smell of fire didn’t help.

[ _Dad, stop shooting!_ ]

“Are you blind, Haruka?” his father hissed, glancing at him for the briefest second. He soon focused on the monster again and jumped back when a sharp shred reached forward, trying to tear reality in half. “That thing killed your mother, and it will kill us―…”

[ _He’s not attacking me!_ ]

“Wonderful, now all we need is to make it stop attacking us.”

Haruka ignored whether his father’s words had been sarcastic, but his suggestion lit up a bulb in his muddled brain.

Rin wouldn’t listen to any hunter― and why should he, when they were there to kill him? Haruka had no idea whether he could even perceive sounds in that state.

But the abyss that was his mind was greater than ever, threatening, tempting every time Haruka talked to his father. That was still there― which meant Rin was still there, inside the nightmare, in a place Haruka could theoretically reach.

And Haruka did not know whether his father had any idea what Rin’s mind was like, but there was no time to ask. Rin’s unstable state might be the closest to a god they would ever see, but his human body was still bleeding out, poisoned by that bullet.

So he swallowed the knot of fear down his throat, dove right into the void, clenching his teeth when the screaming abyss tore him off his own perception, invaded his mind―

 

…only it wasn’t empty.

 

It was full of fear, of pleas, of anger. Of beautiful pictures and abominations staring at them, of voices that yelled and sobbed and whispered and only converged in a cry for help― something gods were above of, something Rin had never been able to convey with words.

It was that voice made of voices what Haruka reached out for. Somehow, it sounded like _his_ Rin.

[ _Rin!_ ]

There was no answer, nor did Haruka expect it. Rin wasn’t trained in telepathy, after all.

[ _Rin, listen to me._ ]

The screams were loud enough to make his head explode, loud enough to drive him crazy; but Haruka pushed forward, through the pain in his head and the pain in his heart and the darkness Rin was caged in.

[ _Stop attacking them._ ]

There was a shift in the universe that was Rin’s mind― something the most formidable side of him had never considered. Not words, but a bewilderment so intense it left Haruka confused for a moment, too.

[ _I know you’re angry! They hurt you, treated you like an animal… I know._ ] The cry paused for the briefest second. Perhaps just to catch his breath, but Haruka went on: [ _I’m angry too._ ]

Thousands of emotions too vast to name them flooded the collective voice tearing the walls of Haruka’s mind apart, so strong they clouded the sight of the monster, wrapped Haruka’s mind in the most absolute darkness.

And he didn’t hear it, but he understood Rin’s most instinctive reaction: [ _So what?_ ]

The screams came back deafening, too overwhelming against Haruka’s attempts at making himself heard.

_No, no, no._

 

_Stop._

 

He was losing Rin.

 

( _Stop what?_ )

 

And himself.

 

Haruka sought the pain in his head, in his ankle― it was barely there, but the high-pitched beeping it made was annoying enough to ground him, to remind him of his identity in the midst of the hurricane that was Rin’s mind.

[ _You don’t like what you’re doing._ ] And the only voice he had came out harsh, desperate and terrified, but attention fell on his shoulders, nearly crushing him; Haruka made a last effort. [ _You hate destroying things._ ]

The monster hesitated. Just a bit.

[ _Rin, please._ ]

Enough.

[ _Please come back._ ]

 

 

 

 

 

Regaining awareness of his own body wasn’t an enjoyable experience.

Haruka couldn’t remember falling to his knees, and he certainly didn’t recall the nausea that must have preceded his latest meal spilling on the ground; he flinched at the hand on his shoulder that had replaced Winnie’s soft weight, even though it must have been there for a while, shot a quick glance to confirm his father’s presence behind him.

Soon, though, Rin caught all of his attention.

Rin, whose darkness was shrinking, to the hunters’ shock. Rin, who appeared in the centre of tangled black threads as the dying sun dissolved them in twilight, limp and fragile and covered in his own blood.

Rin, who had no strength left to keep himself suspended on the air.

Haruka yelled.

There was no sound, of course― that was what came out of Winnie’s mouth; but he screamed the ball of fear out of his throat with his breath alone, scrambled forward as Rin fell down the cliff and disappeared from his sight.

“I can’t believe it…” someone muttered. “Did it really revert?”

Haruka didn’t hear them. He didn’t hear his father’s alarmed yelp when electricity burnt the grip he had on the teenager’s shoulder, either.

He did the only thing he could, given his circumstances.

He jumped right after Rin.

 

 

 

 

 

Unlike the first time Haruka had sunk into that rough sea, the fall was unnaturally short.

It was the cold water what felt eternal― it filtered inside his being through the wound in his head, froze his joints; and Haruka could only think, as he kicked against the sea to get to the surface, that jumping into the sea to save someone else when he could barely move himself was perhaps the stupidest thing he had ever done.

But he had just spoken in a demigod’s mind, which was probably the second stupidest thing he had ever done.

Haruka searched for Rin’s mind again; not to talk to him, but to make sure it was still there. The abyss was nearly laughable after the never-ending series of nightmares that Rin’s consciousness in his unstable form was, although perhaps that had something to do with the fact that Haruka’s head couldn’t physically hurt any worse than it already did.

He found something in his arms before he could dive, though― and Haruka thought he might be actually going crazy when he saw the siren with anemones in her hair grinning at him as she shoved a limp body against him.

[ _Coral?_ ]

He vaguely noticed she was taking him somewhere. To eat both him and Rin, Haruka assumed.

[ _I can’t believe I agreed to this_ ], she commented. Haruka sloppily hugged Rin tighter. [ _I made a deal with him, Human… Just in case, you know? He opened his heart_ just in case _! Ridiculous._ ]

[ _Rin… planned this?_ ]

[ _No, of course not. He’s the dumbest demigod I’ve ever met in my four-hundred twenty-three years._ ] She was fast; Haruka could already see the boats. [ _He wanted a backup plan, in case something happened… But there are too many humans._ ] Haruka frowned at the change in her tone, at the growing noise he couldn’t quite place. [ _This will have to do… Try not to drown while they arrive, please._ ]

Pushing against the cold, Haruka kicked around to keep both him and Rin afloat, lightly shaking the demigod― he was unconscious, had lost his clothes at some point during his transformation; but when Haruka felt his heartbeat through his own t-shirt none of that mattered.

[ _Want to know what he gave me in exchange, Human?_ ]

Haruka spotted the motorboat right when Coral spoke in his head again; irritation made its way through pain and exhaustion when he recognised the vivid hair of one of the hunters on it.

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you again, Haru.”

The only reason Haruka allowed Kisumi to push him up was he was too tired to do anything that required any more effort than drowning by the time the motorboat reached them; he latched onto Rin as soon as he was out of the water, though.

Coral’s voice was quiet when the motorboat sped up again and turned to head back towards the bigger vessels, but Haruka still heard her.

[ _He told me he loves you._ ]

 

 

 

 

 

Even after reaching the hunters’ vessel, Haruka refused to let go of Rin.

They were drenched in salt water, in blood that belonged to the both of them― Haruka couldn’t count how many hunters stood in a circle around him and the demigod, but only his father and Kisumi stood out, perhaps because he didn’t know anyone else.

They had tried to subdue him. They had taken Rin with the excuse of carrying them separately to the ship, and now they had magical burns, scratches, and Haruka was pretty sure he had bitten someone― but he wasn’t about to throw away all his efforts to keep Rin safe. Defiance shone in his weary gaze, desperately trying to keep the colony of people dressed in dark blue at bay; he hugged Rin’s still form close, refusing to hand him over to the hunters.

“Haruka,” his father tried for the fourth time, “please, lift the shield. I don’t want to do this by force.”

[ _You’ll kill him_ ], Haruka insisted. He was fairly certain he had said that before, but it was true― and he wanted to give up and sleep until his head stopped burning but something within him was in hysterics at the idea of letting hunters get close to Rin.

He probably looked pathetic, drenched to the bone and bleeding and clinging to a demigod that didn’t even move to escape the blackness lurking in the corners of his vision; he was but a concussed teenager clawing through exhaustion to scratch for just a few more minutes of wakefulness.

A child throwing a tantrum.

Nanase-san let out a sigh, pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“The same,” he muttered to one of the blurs Haruka supposed was another hunter, not quietly enough for his son not to hear him. “Haruka, you’re injured, and the demigod―…”

[ _Rin._ ]

“What?”

[ _His name is Rin_.]

Somehow it felt important.

His father sighed again. If Haruka had been in a state of mind that allowed him to keep count, he would know it was the twelfth time in less than three minutes.

“Alright. _Rin_ ,” he conceded, “is bleeding out, because it―… he was shot. Not only that, but he’s been poisoned. And you can’t even stand… We are just going to take care of both of you.”

Haruka narrowed his eyes.

“Look, Haru,” Kisumi intervened. Haruka only became aware of how serious his condition must be when he caught himself thinking that his smile, tense as it was, seemed more sincere than his father’s words. “How about you and… Rin… stay together? That way you’ll be able to keep an eye on him.”

[ _What’s the trick?_ ]

Kisumi flinched at the sudden intrusion in his head― and perhaps also at the panic flooding Haruka’s thoughts.

“There’s no trick, really. I’ll tell you everything when you get some rest,” he promised. “How does that sound?”

Haruka had never liked Kisumi –he was too loud and too extroverted and too annoying–, but he knew the aspiring hunter didn’t usually lie. After a nod that made the world dance more than the rocking of the waves already did, he lifted the magical shield, glaring at his classmate as if to make sure he fully understood the implicit threat, then focused on the hunters cautiously approaching to get Rin.

Haruka didn’t want to take his eyes off the demigod, but he had long since gone past his limits― he thought he saw fear in his father’s expression, but when Rin’s limp form slipped away the world became too dark to care.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the end.
> 
> I'm a bit sorry because Haruka's birthday is in less than one hour (in my timezone) and all I have to offer is angst... But me making him suffer is the most solid proof I love him. But also #GiveHaruABreak2k18
> 
> Enough about this, anyway. What did you think about this chapter? I accept rocks. I probably deserve them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this would be four chapters long, didn't I?
> 
> Hahaha I lied. 
> 
> Well, not really, it's just that the original chapter 4 ended up being nearly twice as long as the others because there are too many things I needed to wrap up and they didn't fit in ~9k words. So, hm, bear with me a little longer?

 

 

 

 

When Haruka came to, he was still in the hunters’ boat, still in the open sea.

He wasn’t on deck, though; the ceiling upon him was that indefinite colour night always dyes the world with and the whispers of hunters around had been replaced by the murmur of the waves against the vessel. Haruka could barely hear it, though, sea drowned out by a white noise of sorts that seemed to have taken residence within his brain. His organs felt liquefied, and yet they pinned him against an uncomfortable mattress as if they were made of lead.

And, once again, someone had taken the trouble to change him into dry clothes and wrap him up in blankets.

It… wasn’t entirely unfamiliar.

But those clothes didn’t smell of sea and rain, and it was that what unsettled him first, before memories and understanding arrived with the delicacy of a train wreck.

The hunters.

The island on fire.

The red-eyed darkness.

The abyss.

 _Rin_.

Haruka sat up, too abruptly― the walls closed in on him as soon as he did, and he fell back and curled up on his side as he retched, tears peeking from the corners of his eyes when his empty stomach squeezed shut.

“Hey, hey!”

Blotches of darkness stained the corners of his senses, distress kicking at his skull from the inside at the steps rushing closer.

“Take it easy for once, dude.”

Haruka huffed on reflex.

But Kisumi was _right there_ and he couldn’t even look up; magic prickled beneath his skin, just barely contained, ready to lash out the second his classmate made the mistake of touching him.

Haruka hugged his stomach, struggled to breathe through the panic stuck in his throat. It was no different from a nightmare, he told himself, another one and he was too used to it to not manage his breathing and keep himself grounded enough to not lose consciousness again.

 _But it wasn’t a nightmare_ , Haruka argued, gasping for the moist air in the room, focusing on Kisumi’s breathing to stop thinking about the metal melting in his skull. If the pain was real, so was everything else―

That was the reason he needed to stay awake.

It took him a while, but after fifteen inspirations and as many exhalations he trusted himself to take a look around.

The emergency light on top of the door wasn’t enough to illuminate the room, and neither was the faint night glowing through the window; but the smell was too peculiar for Haruka not to recognise the sick bay of the ship his father had once given him a tour around; he was on top of a bunk bed, judging by the height Kisumi’s bright eyes stared at him from.

They glinted lilac in the quiet darkness, but Haruka didn’t like the colour.

“I’m here to keep an eye on the demigod,” Kisumi commented, apparently unable to stand more than five seconds of silence.

Words travelled slowly through the viscous confusion Haruka was trapped in; he was aware there was something Kisumi was not saying but not _not_ saying, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

His classmate probably noticed, and maybe, judging by his sigh, he only explained himself better out of pity.

“He’s on the bottom bunk.”

Part of Haruka kind of wished he could pass out again, if only to avoid being aware of the expression Kisumi wore on his face, but he made an effort to cling to the railing on the side of the bed to take a peek.

The occupant of the lower mattress was covered in blankets, his face pale enough to rival the sheets; in the dim-lit room his hair looked truly made of blood, crimson locks sprawled on a sickly white pillow, cracking their way across his ashen skin. Whatever he was dreaming of carved a deep frown between his eyebrows, hitched his breathing every now and then.

But he was there.

Rin was sleeping beneath Haruka, restless and upset and alive; and Haruka glanced around, lost until he spotted the metallic ladder at the feet of the bed.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Kisumi recommended. Apparently Haruka’s glare was funny, for he giggled in response to the angry blue fixed on him. “You hit your head pretty badly and maybe you…’ve got a fracture… and then there’s… also your…” Kisumi trailed off, probably realising Haruka wasn’t paying attention to him; in Haruka’s defence, Rin’s frown had grown deeper, unintelligible blabbering leaving his lips. “…Hey, Haru.”

Something about the seriousness soaking his name, out of place in Kisumi’s voice, made Haruka look up.

His classmate, in return, glanced away.

“You know who he is, right? …That he…”

[ _Killed my mother_ ], Haruka finished. [ _And left me mute._ ] He couldn’t keep his unease to himself, nearly felt bad when Kisumi winced. But he had seen… Even if his memory was fuzzy at best, he remembered― [ _he can’t control himself when he’s in his unstable form._ ]

Kisumi shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Whatever the inner conflict he had to solve was, Haruka had no idea.

“That’s why demigods are dangerous…” He shot Rin a wary glance. “But he stopped, right? Your dad said… When I decided to come, I didn’t really expect him to be our age.” He chuckled. “I mean, I know it’s dumb, but if I…” Kisumi’s voice died down. “…I’ll pretend your attention span only sucks because you’re concussed.”

Haruka was looking at Rin again, gaze tracing the sharp angles of his face. He regretted his sprained ankle and his maimed balance keeping him bound to that bed.

In the open sea, nights were chilly and Rin was always warm.

He knew there were many other problems that required his attention, that were knocking on his battered brain’s doors; but Haruka had never been one to dwell too much on the distant future.

Even if that future was only a few hours away.

So his only question was simple:

[ _How is Rin?_ ]

“Huh?” Kisumi jumped when he looked up. “Well, I guess he could have it worse. He was injected with the antidote to the venom in the bullet as soon as you let people get close, but he’s lost a lot of blood… Apparently demigods are very resistant, though, and there’s an ambulance waiting at the harbour… so I suppose it’s not that bad.”

His tone lacked the usual annoying chirpy timbre, and Haruka felt like hitting his head against the railing when he found himself missing it.

But whatever the reason was, it could wait.

How long had Haruka been out cold for? Not much more than an hour, the sky wasn’t that dark… He was still tired and injured, and the pang of fear wasn’t strong enough to keep him awake, not when Rin was so close― when the hunters were taking care of him, for whatever reason.

For the time being, they weren’t letting him die.

Haruka told himself that he would talk to Rin. Later, after having some rest, when the demigod was awake and he could clarify… _Ah, yes, I should ask him_ ― what? It was important, _he used it to make a deal with Coral_ , but the siren’s whisper slipped between his fingers― _cracks_ ― _did I really fracture my skull?_

That would explain the pain.

_…What was it again?_

The same steps that had unsettled him by growing closer seemed to step on his tight chest to walk away― perhaps Kisumi knew.

Haruka would have to ask him later.

 

 

 

 

 

 _Later_ turned out not to be the best timing.

Haruka was roused out of a very much needed sleep when the ship docked at the harbour, which meant he could hardly lift his arms to answer the questions of the only paramedic who knew sign language. Haruka didn’t see Kisumi; his erratic attention was focused on Rin’s still unconscious form even as he was lowered and left on a wheelchair, and when he reached forward, clumsily and oblivious to the other three people that made the room too small, he could barely brush the demigod’s cheek.

It was cold.

Haruka flinched back, fingertips hidden in a fist he pressed against his chest.

“Are you alright?” The paramedic –perhaps she had introduced herself at first– smiled at Haruka; his frown only deepened, though, gaze drifting back towards Rin. “You have enough to worry about, yourself.”

«Is he alright?»

“Ah… yes, mostly.”

As they crossed the deck, he spotted his father talking to a policeman; the man waved at Haruka when he noticed his stare. Haruka squinted at the sunlight cutting through the embers of night, bit onto his lower lip when he recognised his surroundings. He glanced at the tamed waves playing with small fishes that swam just beneath the surface.

The wheelchair turned right at the beginning of the pier; in his desperation to avoid the light from the ambulances Haruka craned his neck to look at the path they had just walked, saw two people carrying Rin on a stretcher.

And it was right then and there, with a clarity he had forgotten for days, when epiphany and memory tangled in the words that had been lurking in whispers in his mind all night long.

 _‘He opened his heart_ just in case _!’_

Haruka’s heart skipped a beat.

Ah, Coral’s farewell.

The paramedic said something, but Haruka didn’t hear her.

 _‘He told me he loves you_.’

So that’s why those words were important.

“Haruka, I know you’re tired, but can you try to focus for a second?”

Haruka blinked. Once, twice. Whatever was flourishing in his chest was warm, the kind of warmth Rin carried with him.

He wanted to laugh.

“I need you to look at me, alright?”

Haruka forced himself not to recoil from the bright light the paramedic shone in his eyes; as soon as she was done, though, he rubbed at them and glanced back at Rin.

‘ _He loves you._ ’

«Is he alright?» he signed at her.

She sighed, for some reason. “Yeah.”

But when Haruka brushed the fingertips he had touched Rin’s cheek with, they were still cold.

 

 

 

 

 

He dozed off during the trip to the hospital, but once there he was too busy proving that his ankle was only a bit sore and his head worked perfectly fine to even catch his breath between tests.

Oh, well, maybe it was a little worse than perfectly fine. While the fracture in his skull was insignificant enough to heal on its own, he felt every insertion as a nurse stitched the wound on the side of his forehead up, humming through his teeth as though oblivious to Haruka’s clenched jaw. His foot would be alright in a couple of days, he was told –the kind of information that came in through one ear and out through the other– and before noon he was allowed to go home with a report made of words that danced every time he tried to make sense of them.

“We’ve called your father,” the paramedic he had met at the ship announced as she pushed the wheelchair along the corridor. Since there were no sign language interpreters at the hospital and she had finished her shift, she had volunteered to accompany Haruka. “He is busy right now, though, so you are going home in a taxi… Huh?” She halted when Haruka signed at her, then laughed. “It’s the fifth time you ask that.”

Haruka frowned. Was it?

«I want to see him», he stated instead.

The paramedic’s smile froze in a way that reminded Haruka of Kisumi’s the evening prior.

“I’m not… sure that’s the best idea.” Haruka tilted his head to the side, confused. “There are direct orders regarding that patient. And he’s unconscious, so you won’t be able to talk to him anyway.”

Haruka looked down. Perhaps under different circumstances he would have gone on his own, disregarding rules and advice. But he had a sprained ankle and a grade-two concussion and he didn’t even know where Rin might be.

And still…

«Who gave that order?»

The woman –Aki, Haruka suddenly remembered– let out a nervous laughter.

“Ah… Well, it was actually your father. It looks like you’ve grown fond of the demigod, but it’s a delicate situation… And he is dangerous, after all.”

The pang in his stomach reminded Haruka of his conversation with Kisumi― he wasn’t stupid enough not to realise there was an essential piece missing in the picture, and as long as he didn’t know what it was he would keep being led by the nose.

 

 

 

 

 

After a short trip in taxi and five minutes resting in his grandmother’s solid embrace, Haruka slept throughout most of the day, getting up only to eat a bit each time.

It was a relief noticing how his balance steadily improved every time he stood; by suppertime he barely needed support from the walls to walk around, and not even the bright white tiles of the bathroom spun around when he limped inside. His surroundings danced a bit, though, when Haruka whipped his neck towards the mirror, for a second not recognising the face staring back at him.

He was thinner than the last time he had seen his reflection: his blue eyes looked bigger, brighter against tired dark rings. Black hair covered most of the wound above his eyebrow, but the bruised swelling around the stitches was noticeable. At some point during his stay in the island he had given up on trying to shave; it wasn’t as if the few hairs forming a pitiful excuse of a stubble particularly stood out, anyway.

Haruka took a deep breath before limping towards the living room, dragging his hand along the wall more to not strain his ankle than to support himself. He halted, though, when he saw his grandmother wasn’t alone.

His father was sitting at the table, opposite the old woman. He was nearly lying on it, with his elbow resting on the board; Haruka recognised the documents from the hospital, tried to recall what the doctors had said― there was nothing irreparable, right?

“I’m glad to see you’re already walking around,” the man greeted, straightening up. “How’s your head?”

Haruka shrugged in response, because _at least now I can stand straight_ didn’t really mean _well_. His father didn’t press him for more.

His grandmother, for her part, only clicked her tongue.

“Your father wants to talk to you, Haru” she announced, clearly impatient. She always was when it came to her son’s strange dances around her grandson. “Are you up for a conversation?”

Haruka had about three hypotheses of what his father wanted to talk to him about and he liked none of them, but he limped towards the table and dropped himself, rather gracelessly, between the two adults.

“Now that you are… more collected, we should talk about the time you’ve been gone.”

Haruka narrowed his eyes― not really surprised, but rather irritated at issues sleep –luckily– hadn’t been able to wash away. He thought about Kisumi’s half-truths, about Aki’s discomfort.

[ _Why did you forbid me from seeing Rin?_ ] And the anger that had been making weak noises in the back of his head since the day prior slipped out, made his father’s stoic figure shrink nearly imperceptibly.

“According to this, Haruka, you shouldn’t use telepathy for a couple of days.” But the man must have sensed how little his son cared about doctors’ orders in that moment, for he let out a resigned sigh before continuing: “You were kidnapped for nearly one month and a half,” he quietly explained. “It’s not strange that you have developed some sort of attachment to the demigod, but you have to understand that objectively you were…”

[ _Rin didn’t hurt me_ ], Haruka cut him off, fingers curling into fists beneath the table.

His father paused, considered his options.

“How did you get those wounds, then?”

[ _That was―…_ ] But Haruka didn’t finish, suddenly at a loss. He tried to think back― it had been after seeing the hunters, right? Rin and he had headed towards the forest to put as much distance as they could between the demigod and the intruders, and then…

Haruka looked down, helplessness tightening a fist around his heart when it dawned on him that he didn’t remember― that his brain didn’t have that information, just like it had stored only selected memories throughout the hours after Rin became a living nightmare.

“You know that’s not fair,” his grandmother intervened. “The boy is still disoriented, he couldn’t tell you even if it hadn’t been the demigod.”

[ _It wasn’t Rin_ ], Haruka assured― that much was true. Rin had carried him on his back to the end of the forest. [ _I think I fell_ ], he concluded when his ankle throbbed painfully.

“How about the other one?” Haruka looked up, bewildered. “That scar you have in your temple,” his father clarified, shaking the documents in his hand. “You got that one recently.”

[ _I fell to the sea._ ] Haruka ignored his father’s raised eyebrows. [ _I would’ve drowned if Rin hadn’t been there._ ]

“That sounds…”

[ _It’s true_ ], Haruka insisted. Rin had called his name and snatched him off the water’s lethal embrace and learnt fingerspelling all by himself― [ _you can’t kill Rin again._ ]

Haruka’s grandmother set a hand on his shoulder. “My child, do you know what that Rin did? To your mother, and to you.”

Haruka nodded.

“And you’re still defending it.” His father ran a hand through his hair; he shot a glance at his wife’s photograph on the altar, behind the offerings and the incense –different from the usual, the one his grandmother always set during Odon. “Haruka, believe me when I say I know a demigod’s rebirth can go wrong in any imaginable way―” Haruka didn’t― “but it’s been wreaking havoc for years; we all have seen how unstable it is. _You_ have seen it.”

[ _Him_ ], Haruka corrected his father, not believing him for a second. Among the few things he remembered, the hatred freezing the man’s gaze stood out painfully. [ _You shot him, of course he got angry._ ] Recalling the utter mess Rin’s mind had been just the day prior sent shivers down his arms. [ _And he didn’t kill anyone._ ]

“Unlike yours, my memory isn’t impaired, Haruka.” Haruka narrowed his eyes at the blow. “And I do recall reading a report that clearly states that the demigod was the one who started this madness when he kidnapped you.”

[ _To protect himself._ ] Haruka knew his father was being purposefully obnoxious, and his composure was evaporating at an alarming rate. [ _The hunters would have hurt him if he hadn’t._ ]

After a clash of glares, the man lowered his head, stared at Haruka’s medical report without seeing it, just to gather whatever was left of his patience.

Haruka, for his part, sought his grandmother’s gaze. She, like his father, looked conflicted; but unlike the man’s there was no rancour clouding her gaze, clear blue smiling from her bright eyes with that unwavering hope to find a way out that had soothed Haruka’s heart so many times.

People often said he was the spitting image of his late mother, but Haruka liked to think there was something from the old woman’s attentive gaze in himself.

[ _Is that kid worth causing your poor father such headaches?_ ]

Haruka exhaled a snort through his nose, nodded just barely.

He was aware his grandmother didn’t take sides; she always stood in the middle, trying to smoothen the seventeen year-old distance between her son and her grandson, and she usually got her way.

“A couple of days after you disappeared,” his father started when he finished his silent contemplation, “someone who used to be close to the demigod in its past life contacted us to make a deal.” Haruka straightened up, intrigued. “They helped us track the demigod down, to camouflage the ships not to be noticed… We would have never found you without their help. But, in exchange, they asked for mercy for it.

“I didn’t like it.” Haruka wasn’t surprised. “However, even though I’m the commander of my unit, I can’t ignore what my subordinates want. And most of them are actually interested in what might come out of this.”

The man closed his eyes, threw his head back to buy some time, to put his thoughts in order.

“I knew accepting the deal was the only way to find you, but I have a duty to keep society safe from supernatural threats― and as a high-ranked hunter, I couldn’t put the well-being of one person above everything, even if that person is my son.” Haruka bit his tongue, forced himself to keep quiet. He would have rather his father didn’t abandon him instead of those twisted displays of affection. “So I agreed, for your sake and my colleagues’, with one condition. If the demigod isn’t dangerous, if it doesn’t pose a threat to those around it, I’ll personally make sure it is forgiven.

“But I have no proof people are safe around it.”

It took a couple of seconds for Haruka to process the implications behind his father’s words.

[ _I was safe_ ], he pushed through his indignation, the mental equivalent of hissing through his teeth. [ _I got hurt when_ you _arrived._ ]

“And it burnt down the island. You were unconscious, but by the time we started heading back there wasn’t a single plant alive left on that rock.”

[ _You shot him!_ ]

“Of course I did,” his father scoffed, and it wasn’t until that moment that it dawned on Haruka.

[ _…You wanted to provoke him._ ]

Eyes a few shades darker than his own widened. Too much, too― “huh?”

… _fake_.

[ _You hurt him to make him defend himself. And now you have it easier to convince the others that Rin is dangerous._ ]

“You don’t know what you’re saying… No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t want him to keep harming you…”

[ _Liar._ ]

“Haru,” his grandmother warned, stern.

Haruka ignored her. Anger, which up until that point had been but a dull throbbing in his injuries, was now bubbling up his chest, blood boiling in his veins.

It wasn’t fair.

Rin kept himself away from people even though he was oh so naturally drawn to them, destroyed himself to stop the senseless rage from taking over his will and hurting anyone else… He tried so hard, so badly to keep his most terrifying nature at bay, and all of that…

All of that to be condemned from the beginning.

[ _You don’t care about safety! Or about me, or about anything― you just want to avenge Mum._ ]

The punch to the table reverberated in Haruka’s skull; he shut his eyes tightly, flinched at the noise.

“I’m not going to allow you to talk to me like that,” his father grunted, and when Haruka glanced at him he found cold fury in his eyes. “Like it or not, you owe me some respect. I am…”

[ _Then act like it._ ]

In hindsight, perhaps it was for the best that Haruka’s grandmother spoke in the seconds it took for her son to find something to reply with.

“Stop, you two,” she ordered― and both Haruka and his father had a terrible temper but she was way older than the two of them. “Fighting won’t solve anything.”

Haruka lowered his head, glared at his white knuckles.

He was pretty sure lashing out, throwing anger and resentment and suspicions at his father, hadn’t been a clever choice― and maybe he would have controlled himself if his head didn’t hurt so damn much. But he was scared and frustrated and he didn’t even know what his father had planned for Rin.

“You aren’t the only who… thinks I staged the situation.” Haruka raised his gaze, found his father looking down, at the fist he still had on the table. His voice trembled, but all of his anger seemed to be caged in his tense knuckles. “Whatever decision I make, it’ll be too rushed if I do it right now. My position regarding the demigod is known, and I don’t want to compromise my credibility… I need my subordinates to trust me, after all.

“Truth is the demigod hasn’t killed anyone since it attacked you, at least that we know of.” Haruka nodded. It had surprised him― there had been some incidents attributed to Rin since he could remember, but he didn’t recall news about a single death. Even if Rin lost control the way he had the day prior, there seemed to be restraints within him. “So he will be put on probation, closely watched to make sure he is not any more threatening than an ordinary human. If he is, though…” Nanase-san finally looked up, intentionally leaving the sentence unfinished. “Do you like that option better?”

Haruka considered it for a couple of seconds. It certainly sounded nice, as long as nobody forced the situation to corner Rin enough to lash out.

[ _Can I visit him?_ ], he asked after a curt nod.

When his father sighed, it was with resignation. “Something tells me you will regardless of my answer… I’ll give you a permit anyway just in case. If you don’t neglect your own recovery, that’s it.”

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka woke up early the following morning, but not as much as his father; his grandmother explained he had a lot of paperwork to do before leaving –the day after Obon– and he had risen with the sun to finish it as soon as he could, not before scribbling a quick note to allow Haruka to visit Rin at the hospital.

“I know you’re still angry with him,” his grandmother commented after Haruka tossed the sheet of paper aside. Haruka’s grip on his chopsticks tightened, the tips sinking into the bit of mackerel he had picked, “but he only wants the best for you.”

Haruka clicked his tongue. He could think of a few better ways to care for someone.

«Do you know everything?»

“From his perspective, yes.” She blew on her cup, looked towards the garden― Haruka’s efforts to make it decent the day he met Rin had been useless; it looked like a small jungle again. “But I would like to know yours. Forgive me, but in my experience demigods aren’t pleasant creatures.”

Haruka paused, ate half his mackerel before setting his chopsticks down again to buy time to give a proper explanation:

«His name is Rin», he started. «He’s an idiot most of the time, but he also…» Haruka trailed off, gaze falling to his plate. «I wasn’t very nice to him at first», he admitted, «but he… He gave me a notebook so that I could talk to him. And tried to learn _shuwa_ by himself. Because I only spelt my name when he asked, and he was curious».

There was a dreamy glint in his grandmother’s eyes that made her small smile brighter.

“That’s very considerate of him, yes.” She took a sip from her cup of tea. “I wish I could say the same about you, my child.”

The mild scolding flew right over Haruka’s head.

«His mind is painful», he signed then, almost unconsciously.

His grandmother set her drink down, intrigued. “Hm? How so?”

Haruka glanced down.

«Big», he tried, at a loss for words to explain the feeling of his head being about to explode. «Dark. Full of voices crying». He took a peek at the woman’s frown. «Is it because he isn’t completely human?»

His grandmother took her time to answer. She turned her head towards the garden, followed a lazy cat with her gaze. Haruka didn’t like bothering her when she was lost in thought, so he glanced at the carnations he didn’t recall having there, at the withering hydrangeas hidden among weeds.

“I have never spoken in a demigod’s mind,” she eventually said. Quiet, soft like that summer morning. “But what you’re saying isn’t entirely unfamiliar to me… Despair is a terrible thing to live with, Haru.” Her crystalline eyes fixed on him, pinning him down to the floor. “When your mother died, your father was drowning in it.”

Haruka’s gaze drifted to the picture on the altar. He thought about her, about the stories he had heard about her, about his father. Then he thought about Rin, about the wonder that was that he pushed through all the pain and got up every day.

«Rin is incredible», he signed after nearly a minute. «But I think he doesn’t believe that…» Something about his grandmother’s barely contained smirk set him off. «What?»

“Ah, nothing… It’s just that it never occurred to me that your father would have a heart attack before me. I’d like to meet that boy.” Haruka tilted his head, confused, but she seemed to have finished her drink. “You want to visit him, right? Yesterday I found the crutches from when I broke my hip.”

Haruka nodded, still taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

«Where are they?»

“In my room…  Ah, before I forget: Makoto came yesterday, but you were asleep. The Tachibanas have been worried about you, too, so make sure to pay them a visit when you can.”

It didn’t take Haruka long to get the hang of the crutches, considering he had never needed them before. Still, climbing down the stone staircase that led to his house was an adventure; his arms were stiff by the time he reached the bottom, and he was glad Makoto walked out of his house upon seeing him through the window.

The embrace his best friend trapped him in, though, wasn’t something Haruka could have been prepared for that morning, or ever. Makoto’s arms hugged him tight enough to squeeze the air out of his lungs, to open his hands and drop the crutches― it was only when they fell to the concrete ground with a metallic noise that Makoto stepped back.

“We’ve been so worried!” he exclaimed, crouching to retrieve the crutches. “Ren and Ran wanted to play video games with you and when I got to your house your grandma said you had disappeared… How are you?”

Haruka held on the crutches tighter this time, shook his head.

[ _Fine_ ], he answered, and even though he wasn’t supposed to use telepathy yet Makoto’s mind was cool with relief. Not as soothing as usual, though. [ _This’ll heal._ ]

“…And the one in your head?”

Haruka had never liked worrying people, so he only shrugged in response. [ _That’ll heal too._ ]

Makoto didn’t look entirely convinced, but he wasn’t one to push. Sometimes Haruka didn’t know whether that was supposed to be a good thing, but in that moment he was glad.

“Where are you going so early?” he asked after a couple of seconds, breaking a sort of silence that never felt violent.

[ _The hospital. To visit someone_ ], Haruka quickly clarified upon seeing Makoto’s wide eyes. [ _Want to come with me?_ ]

Even if Makoto never pried, Haruka supposed he owed his best friend an explanation.

 

 

 

 

 

“So you’re telling me,” Makoto summarised fifteen minutes later, “that the demigod that killed your mother, nearly killed you and had you kidnapped for more than a month isn’t that bad? And you’re going to visit him at the hospital?”

[ _The demigod has a name._ ] Haruka could barely contain his irritation. He was tired of everyone’s refusal to treat Rin as a person.

The train left them only a couple of streets away from the hospital; the white mole was visible from the station, and as Makoto struggled to keep up with Haruka –apparently insecurity was more of a hindrance than an injured foot– it hovered over them, grew overwhelming and suffocating in a way Haruka had been too absent to notice the day prior. Not even the wind chimes kept that foreboding feeling at bay.

The permit his father had given him included the number of the room Rin was in; Haruka was happy at the prospect of skipping the information desk step. He gave Makoto the sheet of paper, watched his friend try to decipher the murky handwriting as the lift took them towards the fourth floor.

Once there, though, Haruka realised memorising the number of Rin’s room had been pointless; there were hunters guarding the whole floor, and two of them approached Makoto and him as soon as they made for the hallway where their destination awaited.

“I’m sorry, but civilians don’t have access to this area,” a bald man that didn’t look much older than Haruka’s father announced, stepping before them. “If you’re journalists, the press conference is scheduled for…”

“Uh, no, we’re not,” Makoto interrupted him, showing him the permit. “We’ve got permission to see the demigod from Nanase-san…”

“Ah, of course!” The man’s partner –at least ten years younger, with his hair dyed blond– snatched the piece of paper from Makoto’s hand, gave Haruka a smile before bursting out in thunderous laughter. “Your father told us you’d probably come.”

“You shouldn’t treat your higher-ups’ kids so lightly, Sasabe,” the bald man quietly reprimanded.

Haruka narrowed his eyes at the word _kid_ , but the hunter gestured for the others to follow and soon keeping up with his quick pace was enough of a mission. It seemed that, in spite of his words, he didn’t look down on him.

“It’s been watched since it regained consciousness, and so far it seems to be innocuous, partly due to preventive measures,” the man explained as he guided them towards room 436, the one at the end of the hallway, “but keep in mind it could lash out any moment…”

In spite of Makoto’s strangled noise, Haruka clicked his tongue, passed a crutch to his left hand to knock on the door. He didn’t need someone who probably hadn’t even bothered to learn Rin had a name to tell him what to be cautious about.

“…Who is it now?”

Haruka’s hand halted just a few centimetres away from the door, forgetting it was supposed to grab the crutch again.

He hadn’t stopped to think a whole day had passed since the last time he saw Rin –still, fragile, _cold_ – and even longer since he had last heard his voice. But now it wasn’t thick with ire, didn’t tremble with fear; it was pure exhaustion what those words oozed and Haruka realised right then and there, precariously keeping his balance on one foot and trying to swallow his heart, how long all those hours had been.

If Makoto noticed Haruka’s struggle to remember how crutches worked, he must have blamed it on his concussion.

Predictably, Rin’s was the only occupied bed. It was the closest to the window, and it looked oddly big, blankets and pillows half-swallowing the demigod. His right arm was trapped in a sling and, although not as much as the day prior, his red hair cut violently his pallor where dishevelled locks fell on his face, his eyes dark wells overflowed by gemstones. But his expression lit up when he spotted Haruka.

“Haru!” He straightened up on the mattress, but his enthusiasm vanished a little when he looked Haruka up and down. “Wow, you look terrible.”

Haruka nearly fell down at the giggle coming from the other bed― he hadn’t noticed Rin wasn’t alone, and he had to contain the instinctive urge to snap at Kisumi. His classmate’s attention drifted back to his phone as quickly as he had glanced up, though.

So instead of being needlessly mean –Haruka might find Kisumi annoying, but he didn’t hate him– he reached the bed, leant the crutches on it and signed «you look worse» right in Rin’s face.

The demigod snorted, tucked a red lock behind his ear. “You wish. I’m only here because your friends are scared I’ll annihilate the building.” Something cold squeezed Haruka’s stomach when he noticed the golden bracelet glued to the demigod’s forearm so tightly it nearly looked engraved on his skin, but Rin didn’t seem to realise. “Uh, who are you?”

Haruka followed Rin’s cautious gaze, found Makoto at the end of it. His friend had stayed at the entrance, even though he had managed to at least close the door behind him. He stood still like a salt statue, apparently fearing the moment Rin would devour all of them.

“I’m Makoto.” He hesitated, but after a couple of seconds he took a step forward. “I just came to accompany Haru…”

“He doesn’t bite, Makoto,” Kisumi pointed out, and Haruka was both surprised and grateful at the exasperation in his voice. “Or, well, I hope he doesn’t.”

Rin leant back into the sea of pillows, reached with his uninjured arm for Haruka’s wrist.

“Is it true?” Haruka tilted his head to the side. “That they aren’t going to kill me.”

“Hey, I told you we aren’t!” Kisumi protested. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because I wouldn’t nicely sit around if you told me the truth,” Rin hissed, his careless mask crumbling down. And of course he was uneasy, and angry and terrified.

“…Why?” Makoto intervened. “I mean, you’d just… be reborn again, right?”

Rin narrowed his eyes. “Shitty as it is, I’m a bit fond of this life.”

Makoto looked down, visibly uncomfortable. Haruka recalled his conversation with his father; anger and fear burnt their way up his throat like acid, Rin’s warm fingers soothing it with a light squeeze of his wrist. He was still waiting for an answer― _his_ answer, because out of the three people hanging out in his hospital room Haruka was the least of a stranger.

He pulled to free his hand, bit onto his lower lip at the lingering brush as Rin reluctantly let go of his forearm.

«They won’t kill you».

 _As long as he doesn’t pose a threat_ , he played the words his father hadn’t said in his mind, but Rin was undoubtedly aware of that too.

The summer sun was yet to flood the room and the air was thick with so many things unsaid. Haruka wanted to talk to Rin, wanted to ask, to explain and apologise to him; but Kisumi was there and he might be almost a friend but his loyalty lay with the hunters.

Luckily, Kisumi chose that exact moment to start whining.

“I haven’t had breakfast yet.” Perhaps he wasn’t completely obnoxious. “And I want to see the dragon! Sasabe said he’d let me see it… Makoto, do you want to come?”

“Huh? A dragon?”

“It’s Rin’s, I think!” Haruka’s gaze followed Kisumi as he jumped out of the bed and headed for the door, grabbing Makoto’s elbow.

“…You’re going to lose your arms,” Rin commented. Haruka’s stomach shrunk in worry and guilt as Makoto and Kisumi walked out of the room; he had completely forgotten about Winnie. “Apparently Winnie tried to attack the ship,” Rin explained quietly. “Obviously, he didn’t succeed, so they had to fish him before he drowned and keep him caged so that he didn’t set the ship on fire… I really hope I can keep him.”

Haruka nodded. His hands rested limp in his lap, and he noticed small scratches across his fingers he hadn’t seen yet and didn’t remember getting.

“Haru.”

Rin looked worried when Haruka glanced at him.

“What happened back there? I mean,” he frowned, clenched his jaw for the briefest second, “I… I remember I transformed. And also that I kind of wanted to punch your dad… it was that guy, right?” Haruka nodded, nearly laughed at the not entirely unwelcome possibility of Rin punching his father. “But it’s usually…

“When I fully transform I can’t― I don’t even remember half what I do. And I only revert when I’m too exhausted to go on… it’s what always happens.” He scratched his head. “But now I’m not that tired.”

Haruka exhaled slowly. He remembered Rin’s short-lived illness, wondered how many times it had happened without someone next to him.

«You stopped».

The noise in Haruka’s head grew louder just from remembering his incursion in Rin’s mind, but he swallowed nausea down at the demigod’s incredulity.

“That’s―… no, that can’t be. I can’t just  _stop_ , it doesn’t work like that.” Rin let out a bitter chuckle. “You know, when I… I was raised by a human couple, you know? We lived in the countryside, and we had a dog… I liked them, a lot.

“But still, I sometimes transformed. And it was…” Rin glanced around, as if looking for the proper adjectives. “Not nice. I usually destroyed the path that led to the house, or Lori’s garden… And they didn’t get angry! Every time, after that, I’d wake up to them trying to tell me it wasn’t my fault.” Rin huffed. “What a stupid thing to say. I did that, of course it was.”

Haruka shook his head, but Rin ignored him.

“The thing is they tried to stop me. Every time. But they never could.” In his struggle to make himself understood, Rin raised his wounded arm; he groaned before letting it down, but that seemed to hurt, too. “I’m fairly sure I don’t even have ears in that state.”

«But you heard me».

Rin shut up so quickly he might as well have cut his tongue and swallowed it. He glanced at Haruka, then looked at his still raised hands, then his gaze went back to his eyes and stayed there as he –Haruka assumed– regurgitated his tongue.

“…Haru, you are mute.”

While quicker than writing, sometimes sign language was too slow. Haruka wished there was one single sign to say _of course I am mute you goddamned idiot you slit my throat when I was a baby now can you use your big head for once in one of your lives and think_ ; but since he was pretty sure it hadn’t been invented yet, he only pointed at Rin’s forehead with his index.

Rin’s mouth fell open. Not abruptly, but in slow steps; first it was a nearly imperceptible crack, then the tips of his pointy teeth were visible between his lips. And perhaps that was the reason Haruka took his time to poke at the demigod’s forehead, gaze blue and hungry and enchanted at the thousands of shades of Rin’s surprise.

He looked at Haruka as he leant his forehead into the barely there fingertip.

“But you said it hurts.”

Haruka shrugged as Rin’s uninjured hand flew up to catch his.

He remembered his grandmother’s pensive words.

He remembered the abyss, the monsters and the screams.

He remembered the cries for help.

He took a deep breath and pushed through all of it, because he had already done it once.

[ _It hurts you all the time._ ]

Rin’s eyes widened, shock filling every one of their crimson corners.

“I… Haru, you’re pale.” Haruka swallowed down, shook his head. It lolled forward, sharp pain piercing through the cracks in his skull and destabilising him until he found Rin’s shoulder. “I know what I said, but it was stupid and selfish. Just because my brain is broken it doesn’t mean you have to be in pain too.”

Haruka’s fingers curled tighter in Rin’s grip.

[ _I’ve got a fracture in my skull, does that count?_ ]

“Haru,” Rin hissed. “Wait―… Was that when you fell? Talk about bad luck.”

Haruka closed his eyes, stubborn. If only…

[ _It hurts less than the first time._ ]

“…Huh?”

Rin’s surprise wasn’t only his― it had a bit of Haruka’s own shock at such a small, yet important realisation.

[ _When you kidnapped me. It was worse._ ]

Haruka tried to think back. He hadn’t cared at the time, but that first day Rin had been upset and angry… And when he had tried to wade through the demigod’s mind in his sleep, they both had been tense, troubled and worried; and yet there hadn’t been screams as much as whispers in that infinite darkness. As for the demigod in his unstable state… Haruka was pretty sure nobody but him was foolish enough to try to talk to such a creature.

He had been desperate enough to try.

‘ _He’s changing._ ’

Coral’s words came to Haruka’s mind― he nearly felt her wet tongue sliding along the scar in his throat again, and he shuddered against Rin’s worried form.

Was that, then, what she had noticed, way before him?

Haruka flinched when Rin pulled at his hand to bring him closer― when the demigod burrowed his face in his shoulder something broken resounded through his clothes.

“Did I really… stop?” Haruka nodded, which translated into a nuzzle into Rin's shoulder; he sucked a loud breath in.

[ _You heard me_ ], Haruka insisted. [ _And you came back._ ]

“I thought… Since I woke up I thought it had been a dream.” Rin’s voice came out shaky. “It feels like a nightmare, so I thought it was one… But you really saved me.” Haruka closed his eyes, revelled in the warmth he had fought tooth and nail to keep. “I was falling and I heard your voice.”

It was only then that Haruka realised Rin was crying.

“It’s beautiful.”

 

 

 

 

 

It was lunchtime by the time Haruka and Makoto arrived home.

In spite of Ran and Ren’s pleas, Haruka refused the Tachibanas’ invitation to eat with them. Partly because he didn’t want to intrude, but mostly because his tolerance to loud noises was still worryingly low.

Predictably, his father wasn’t home. Haruka had expected he’d drown himself in paperwork for Obon, so it didn’t take him by surprise; but the idea didn’t irritate him as much as it soothed his doubts― the two of them had never really learnt to get along and after what had gone down a couple of days prior Haruka wasn’t sure how he felt about being around him anymore.

“You have the right to be angry,” his grandmother commented after lunch, leaving the dirty plates in the sink; Haruka set the one he had just washed on the countertop with such force even he flinched. “Ah, but try not to break anything.”

Haruka didn’t reply, shoulders slumped as he mechanically continued his task, not really listening to his grandmother’s soft humming.

He didn’t know whether he was angry.

He had assumed his father saw too much of his late mother in him to be comfortable in his presence years prior; at some point resignation had shaped into the belief that the only relative who still cared for him was his grandmother. But now, after his father had put his thirst for revenge aside, even if not wholly –even if not in the right _way_ –, just to bring him back, Haruka was having trouble to accept that the man did, indeed, love him even if it was just a little.

Haruka had the feeling his thoughts would be clearer after sleeping a little more, but the doorbell rang as soon as he started heading upstairs; and Nagisa’s enthusiasm and Rei’s polite curiosity were overwhelming in the best of ways, but his focus came and went as if in waves.

Makoto’s arrival was a blessing, but still not enough; the three voices reached Haruka’s ears at the right volume to lull him into a light sleep. By the time he awoke, startled by the entrance door closing, his friends had already left and, according to his grandmother, apologised for imposing their presence when he needed to rest.

Which was most of the reason Haruka wanted to scream when he finally walked up to his room and changed clothes.

As soon as he dropped himself on his bed, all of his sleepiness seemed to vanish all of a sudden. Haruka lay on his back, watched the soft breeze blowing through the open window dance with the curtains, the patterns moonlight drew on the walls.

He wanted to sleep. Preferably for three days straight.

But his eyes wouldn’t even close for longer than a blink. He could feel his grandmother’s always soothing consciousness downstairs, hear the conflict in his father’s thoughts as soon as he walked in the house even though Haruka had no interest in prying; a bit further away, he guessed Makoto was playing with his siblings, just like any other day.

And yet, for Haruka it hadn’t seemed ordinary. He supposed it had something to do with how he had spent longer than a month stuck with Rin in a tiny island in the middle of nowhere, but every little thing about his routine –Makoto’s knowing smiles, his grandmother’s advice, the delicate balance between Nagisa’s smothering enthusiasm and Rei’s polite caution– stood out as if they were new.

Perhaps his concussion was to blame for that, the way it was behind his skewed memory.

Maybe Haruka had just never really paid much attention to his daily life until Rin’s presence, which was all but ordinary, snuck into it.

Haruka rubbed at his eyes, silently laughing in the darkness of his bedroom.

Having Rin in his routine felt nice.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the end (the REAL end this time I swear) and a couple of things that still need to be discussed. And fireworks!
> 
> At this point I accept anything you consider I deserve for writing this madness.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

 

The sun was high when Haruka awoke to a barely noticeable rumour in the back of his head, a note from his grandmother and his father –whose sole presence, especially without the old woman’s figure to mediate between him and his son, was both remarkable and unsettling– sitting in the living room, apparently too busy with his tablet, laptop and phone to raise his gaze when Haruka limped inside to head for the kitchen.

“Good morning, Haruka,” he greeted, finally acknowledging his arrival.

Haruka wasn’t particularly hungry, so he filled a glass with pineapple juice and leant on the countertop for a couple of minutes, not entirely sure he wanted to sit at the table with his father. As he sipped on the drink, his gaze hopped from the man to the photograph of his mother to the painting he had given his grandmother for her latest birthday, pinned to the wall.

He had never really understood why people clung to the past. As a kid, Haruka used to think that his father was the only one haunted by ghosts of loved ones; while his grandmother had always been the one who told stories about his late mother, Haruka had always noticed the stare Nanase Ayumu often gave him, the one that was never completely addressed at him. But when Makoto’s goldfish died and his friend convinced himself that it had been a deep sea monster, Haruka started to wonder if his father was really the exception to the rule.

And then was Rin, unable to let go of a burden he should have never carried. Because he was both human and glorious, and he couldn’t renounce to the half of his being that was above morals and logic; but it was that very nature what had saved Haruka, what helped him fly and see through the thickest darkness.

Perhaps that was why he kept moving in spite of the hostile place his mind was― forward or away, what mattered was that he never stopped still. He never had, in seventeen years.

Haruka sighed into his nearly empty glass.

Maybe his father wasn’t the odd one, after all.

A single item on top of the table, furthest from where his father sat, caught his attention. Haruka half walked, half dragged his injured foot towards his own phone, if only to confirm it had died somewhere after his kidnapping. He knelt before the TV, fished the charger from a drawer and plugged it to the wall, resorted to wait patiently for his phone to revive.

Most of the stray cats he and his grandmother often fed were lying on the porch, already taking a nap even though the hottest part of the day had yet to arrive. Haruka snapped his fingers, nearly smiled when his favourite, an old, fat calico, raised his head to stare with his perpetual moody expression.

But he stood on wire legs that defied physics to bear his weight, gave a deep, hoarse _meow_ as he walked closed as if to make it clear he only did it out of obligation.

[ _So even you missed me, huh?_ ]

“Don’t let the cats get inside,” his father quietly scolded. Haruka glanced away from the cat –he had been around since Haruka was little, but nobody had ever thought of naming it–, looked at the stern eyes focused on him. “If you start giving them liberties they will end up invading the house.”

Haruka didn’t bother to hide his annoyance as he let the cat rub his head against his knee. His purring reminded him of Winnie; Haruka wondered if Rin would be able to keep the dragon after things calmed down.

And talking about Rin…

[ _Where is Rin going to live?_ ]

The man looked as if he had bitten into a particularly sour lemon when he answered, after a short silence where he most likely considered saying something quite different from the words that finally came out of his mouth:

“We’re hunters, not the social services.” Haruka narrowed his eyes. “And before you ask, no, I’m not bringing a demigod to my house.”

That was the furthest from what Haruka was thinking about, but it wasn’t an entirely bad idea.

[ _What do you care? You’re never home._ ]

“Haruka, watch your words,” his father warned, lowering his gaze towards his laptop again. “I won’t forbid you from seeing the demigod if that’s what you want, but if you are going to keep acting this insolent…”

Haruka would really like to see how his father intended to be in charge when he never went to Iwatobi unless it was absolutely necessary, but he bit onto his tongue and switched his phone on instead, if only to have an excuse to stop looking at the man.

He had a lot of unread texts from Nagisa from before summer break he hadn’t read back then, and one Rei had sent the day prior to inform him they would be visiting in the afternoon. Makoto hadn’t bothered, knowing Haruka often forgot he owned a phone and lived next door anyway; but Haruka frowned at the ones that had been sent only half an hour prior from an unknown number.

 

_Haru!_

_Hey, Haruuu_

_You have anything to do this afternoon?_

 

Haruka tilted his head.

 

_who are you?_

 

The stranger went online so quickly they must have been looking out for the notification.

 

_Rin_

_you dont have a phone_

 

Haruka was sure of that, if only because back in the island Rin had resorted to the sirens to know what the hunters were up to.

 

_Now I do_

_And Kisumi gave me your number_

 

A frown knitted Haruka’s eyebrows together, half surprised, half annoyed.

 

_kisumi doesnt have my number_

_Maybe he asked your friend?_

_The one from yesterday_

 

Haruka’s frown deepened, but he had to admit Rin might have a point. While Makoto was well aware Haruka didn’t like Kisumi, he also had strange ideas about all of his friends magically finding a way to get along among them.

 

_whatever_

_what do you want?_

 

Rin took his time to answer. Haruka only kept his gaze focused on the phone because the alternative would have been resuming a conversation he definitely wouldn’t like.

 

_I’m being discharged today_

_Wanna meet up in the afternoon?_

 

If Nanase-san noticed his son’s eyes lighting up, he was wise enough not to comment on it.

 

_yeah,_

 

and Haruka’s fingertips vibrated with a thousand different sentences he wanted to type in the touchscreen, but in the end all he managed was a question:

 

_where?_

 

 

 

 

 

Upon arriving at the place where he was supposed to meet up with Rin, Haruka had to check his phone to make sure he was where the demigod had told him he would be.

He was standing on the outskirts of Iwatobi, at the entrance of an estate so big it seemed to contain the entire mountain behind, the white wall surrounding it too high to see what was inside; Haruka read the names on the plate, but he knew neither _Yamazaki Sousuke_ nor _Matsuoka Gou_. Rin’s last text left no room for mistake, though, so after making sure he had his new notebook in his bag Haruka rang the bell.

It took roughly two minutes to the door to open; and Haruka hadn’t been fully expecting Rin to be behind it, but when he found himself before a scowling middle-aged man he automatically reached out for his bag to write an explanation.

The man’s deep voice halted his movements, though, and when Haruka glanced at him he found something akin to shock in slightly widened eyes.

“Ah… You must be…” The stranger’s gaze stopped around the height of Haruka’s throat; his own froze as if he had suddenly decided against swallowing down. In a way, the look in those turquoise eyes reminded Haruka of Makoto― but darker, hardened by years and experience. “I’m Yamazaki Sousuke. Rin is inside.”

In spite of the small sigh that snuck out between Haruka’s lips, he was confused as he followed Yamazaki into the estate, nearly regretting bringing only one crutch out of arrogance and confidence his foot was healed enough.

He had never been too interested in his father’s job, but he was fairly sure that man wasn’t a hunter, which made Rin’s stay in his house all the more baffling.

It wasn’t only the land what was large –too large to see the wall encircling it, full of noisy cicadas and the occasional, quiet ringing of wind chimes–; the building itself was at least twice as big as Haruka’s entire home. But that wasn’t what caught his attention once he took his shoes off and trailed behind Yamazaki into the house: it was the artificially empty walls, the nails without pictures hanging from them, as if they had been taken off recently.

Only one of them, at the bottom of the stairs, had survived; Haruka’s steps came to a halt when he saw the four people in it, the three beaming redheads jumping out at his eyes. A woman and two children, a boy and a girl that looked around six, who she was hugging with each arm. Perched to her shoulder was a third kid, a boy that radiated an oddly serious aura even though he was smiling too, turquoise eyes shimmering with enthusiasm.

Haruka couldn’t help but stare at the redheaded boy, at the crimson hair and still not too sharp teeth shaping his grin.

It was Rin.

But not _this_ Rin, Haruka realised, gaze hopping to the broad back of the man who had stopped, too, a couple of steps ahead. That was the other Rin, the one who had died seventeen years prior and had taken away his mother and his voice to come back to life.

And he had been with Yamazaki, so the other name –Matsuoka Gou– was probably the girl.

_His… sister?_

Suddenly Haruka didn’t know whether he was in the right place anymore.

“Ah, this one too.” Yamazaki went back to take the photograph off the wall, frowned at Haruka’s silent surprise. “Yeah, that’s me,” he confirmed. “We used to be friends, Rin and I… Before he threw his life overboard for that jerk, that’s it.”

His words were thick with a resentment Haruka wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. He half-expected Yamazaki to go on with his explanation, but the man spun on his heels and resumed climbing up the stairs instead.

Thankfully.

Yamazaki knocked on the second door to the right, but he drew back at the flames that came out of the room as soon as it opened. Rin’s scolding followed them, only mildly mortified:

“You dumb lizard,” he hissed, head peeking in the hallway; his indignation crumbled into sheepishness at Yamazaki’s stare, though. “I’m sorry, he’s…”

“If the dragon can’t get used to humans, he’ll have to leave,” the man stated.

Rin’s gaze fell to the wooden floor. “I know,” he quietly replied, sinking sharp teeth into his lower lip. “He’s still nervous, since the hunters had the bright idea of locking him up. But I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

His promise was met with a tired sigh, but Yamazaki decided to change the topic.

“Anyway, your guest is here,” he said after a short silence, pointing at Haruka with his chin.

Rin smiled when he spotted Haruka, standing a prudential metre behind Yamazaki.

“Oh, hi, Haru! Did you find the place easily?” he asked, his grin growing at the curt nod he got in response.

For a second he was the spitting image of the child in the photograph Yamazaki still carried under his arm, carefully removed from the demigod’s field of view; Haruka resisted the urge to look away.

“Are you going to stay for dinner?” Yamazaki asked quietly. He frowned at Haruka’s shrug; Haruka was sure he was going to add a biting remark, but he just announced: “Hm, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Haruka nearly ran in his rush to get rid of Yamazaki’s judgemental stare; his relieved sigh was interrupted when Winnie leapt on him as soon as he stepped inside the room, the crutch falling to the floor as Rin closed the door behind them. Haruka hopped to the bed, dropped himself on it as the dragon snuggled against his shoulder. He laughed at the purr vibrating through his t-shirt as he scratched Winnie’s black neck, but his momentary joy died down when he recalled the last sound he had heard from the dragon― the terrified screech when Rin had fallen to the sea.

Neck stiff, Haruka glanced at the demigod. Rin was leaning on the closed door as he stared at his pet. His clothes –a black tank top and long jeans– looked new; they contrasted nearly violently with the bandages around his upper arm and the sling it was still in.

“He missed you,” Rin observed, his smile barely there. “He’s been a bit aggressive since we went for him, I bet he’s never seen so many humans together before…” He looked back at Haruka. “Hey, are you okay?”

Haruka raised an eyebrow in disbelief, pushed Winnie off him to set his bag on the floor.

It wasn’t just Rin’s clothes, Haruka noticed. The bed, the desk, the wardrobe― everything about that bedroom smelt like impersonal novelty; and after witnessing Yamazaki’s efforts to erase the other Rin’s presence, he doubted it was a coincidence.

«Are you?» he shot back.

Rin looked trapped in a kind of tension not too different from the uneasiness Winnie couldn’t shake off. While he wasn’t as pale as in the hospital, weariness clung to his every move; it hadn’t been born from exhaustion as much as from stumbling to get used to so many changes in such a short time, though.

“Yeah…” Rin pushed himself off the door, reached the bed in two strides and sat down next to Haruka. “Well, things are getting weirder by the minute,” he admitted, biting onto his lower lip, “but at least Sousuke and Gou are leaving me some space. Sousuke is that man, by the way.” Haruka tilted his head, inviting Rin to continue. “He was fond of… of me, I guess. Or what I was when I knew him.”

Haruka recalled the photograph of the other Rin with his sister and mother and Yamazaki―… Sousuke.

“And Gou―… She’s my older sister now. I used to be the older, but now I’m not, so… I bet this is weirder for her, but she’s really kind.” Rin ran a hand through his red hair, pulled at the tips as if to bring his rambling to a halt. “Anyway, they were the ones who asked your dad not to execute me.” He sighed, threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. “This is crazy.”

If he had looked towards Haruka, he would have found an understanding nod. But he didn’t, so he continued after taking a couple of minutes to put his thoughts in order:

“You know, I don’t get it.” The corners of Rin’ lips dropped, tension carving valleys in the corners of his mouth. “That guy… I, in my past life… I had so many things! Gou and Sousuke seem nice and they’re letting me keep Winnie even though he’s tried to burn them down at least five times since this morning… But I still―… I still didn’t care about that when that person –my lover, I guess– died.” Rin swallowed down, looked at Haruka again. “Do you think I can do it this time?”

In spite of his tiredness, Rin’s gaze was clear when it met blue. His fingers twitched, curled around a fistful of the bedspread as he kept his ground for a couple of seconds; eventually he craned his neck towards the summer afternoon flooding the room through the open window.

“Living among humans, I mean.” His features looked sharper than usual against the sunlight; wind chimes tinkled somewhere in the garden. “I fucked up the last time, and even though I had Russell and Lori, I…”

Rin trailed off, choked on his own breathing.

Haruka couldn’t help the tremor running through his fingers when he set his hand atop of Rin’s, thumb finding the point in his wrist where his pulse beat the loudest.

[ _What happened to them?_ ]

He regretted the question when Rin flinched as if approached with a gun.

“I don’t know,” he eventually mumbled. “When I was thirteen, I… I hurt Lori.” He exhaled a shaky sigh. “Half the garage collapsed on her. She only broke her arm, but I was scared I’d do something worse if I stayed… So I left.

“I don’t do well with humans. It’s only a matter of time before I end up hurting someone again.” Haruka swallowed down. “It’ll be better if I leave as soon as I get rid of this thing,” he mused with a breathy, desperate chuckle, shooting a glare at the bracelet still clinging to his uninjured arm. “Besides, Gou and Sousuke don’t even like me. They just want me to resemble the other Rin.”

Haruka’s grip tightened, as if he could stop Rin from leaving if he grabbed him tightly enough.

He thought about the nightmare at sunset, about the terrible miracles Rin was able to conjure, way beyond regular magic. About the scar decorating his throat like a macabre necklace and the photograph of his mother on the altar and the resentment that never relinquished its cold grip on his father’s turbid gaze, about the fear spilling out of Rin’s lips after Haruka opened the dam with just a question.

But he also thought about the tame flames lighting up the dream-like cave and the embrace that had saved him from the sea’s hunger so many nights prior. About the fact that Haruka did not know a single thing about why the other Rin had rejected every good thing in his life to lose himself to the monster twisting his DNA, but this – _his_ – Rin had never seriously injured a single person since the moment of his rebirth. About how his stubbornness to keep the hell his mind was to himself restrained the monster even when it rightfully lashed out to defend himself.

Rin looked at Haruka again when he let go of his wrist.

«You’ll do fine», he signed. «The other day…»

But Haruka’s hands halted mid-sign, dropped to his lap upon realising Rin wasn’t fluent enough in _shuwa_ to understand half of what he wanted to say.

[ _You didn’t hurt anyone back there._ ] The noise in Rin’s head quietened down a bit in sheer confusion. [ _Not me, not my father and the others. And you listened to me._ ]

Rin blinked. Once, twice.

“I… Okay, Haru, that’s nice of you, but I still set the island on fire. I’ve attacked people before, and…”

[ _You didn’t kill them._ ] Rin narrowed his eyes the tiniest bit when Haruka brushed the relief of the scar across his throat, as if it hurt him. [ _Even in that form, you haven’t killed anyone since you were reborn. And you didn’t hurt us, because you didn’t want to._ ]

Rin’s shoulders lurched forward, as though Haruka were threatening to punch him.

“…That’s not true.”

Haruka tilted his head to the side, confused.

“I wanted to hurt your dad,” Rin admitted, so low it nearly got lost among the screeching of cicadas. He blinked rebellious tears away. “…Look, I get it, I’ve done awful things, and I killed your mum, okay? But when he said I had hurt you, that was a lie and… and…”

Haruka breathed out slowly.

[ _It was on purpose._ ] He lowered his head, not wanting to see Rin’s expression. He did hear his sharp inhale, though. [ _He wanted to provoke you to convince everyone you are dangerous._ ]

“Wh―… He really hates me.”

[ _He really should get over my mother_ ], Haruka corrected. Something about Rin’s resignation hurt― he would rather the demigod got angry, because he had the right, because he _should_ , because it was about time he stopped beating himself over something he couldn’t have controlled, not after dying as a creature with no humanity left within. [ _You can insult him. He deserves it._ ]

Rin choked on his tongue.

“He’s your father, Haru, maybe you shouldn’t…”

[ _I’ll teach you to do it in sign language._ ]

Haruka raised his gaze when Rin tried and failed to muffle a giggle against his hand, caught a glimpse of the pale scar in his wrist.

“If you’re so eager,” Rin conceded, red glinting mischievous with the remainders of tears.

And perhaps it was that look, perhaps it was the droplets of relief lifting small weights off his still chaotic mind; but when Haruka grabbed Rin’s fingers to push them aside all he wanted was to drink the laughter coming out in bouts, to let him hear the quiet noises leaving his lips.

Rin let out a surprised gasp when the kiss threw him off balance, brought Haruka with him as he fell off the bed. Somehow, though, he managed to break pull back just in time, his shoulder softening the blow for Haruka’s cheek.

“If you keep hitting your head you’ll go dumb for real,” he huffed out, a kiss landing on Haruka’s forehead, close to the stitches.

[ _Not any dumber than you_.] Rin snorted, but the seriousness in his mind wasn’t only his. [ _It won’t be like the last time, Rin._ ]

Rin stayed still.

“How do you know?”

Haruka took a couple of seconds to consider it.

[ _I’ll bring you back as many times as you need._ ]

There was no protest, no retort to belittle the certainty laced with Haruka’s thoughts― or to protect Rin from the strength of his conviction. The words were a promise, a warning and a threat all at once, and yet carried nothing Rin needed to defend himself from.

Because Haruka meant every bit of them.

 

 

 

 

 

For a while, they kept quiet.

They lay together on the wooden floor, a mess of tangled legs and half a hug and Haruka’s weight comfortable on top of Rin’s. Winnie had fallen asleep on the windowsill, his quiet snores tangling with the wind chimes bringing summer with them.

Haruka supposed he should get off Rin at some point, but besides a privileged sight of the demigod’s profile, of the lines muscles drew on his neck and the small smile made of barely visible teeth and a very particular spot between the base of his throat and his clavicle, he could hear Rin’s breathing as it slowed down, sense his pulse beneath the fingertips drumming on his chest.

He remembered the last days in the island, the desperation in their dances together and the unspoken fears and the end hovering over them and Rin’s long absences.

That was gone, now.

“It tickles.” Rin’s voice was barely audible among the cicadas when he spoke again. “When you speak in my mind.”

He had his injured arm sloppily wrapped around Haruka’s waist, fingertips digging into his back just enough to make it known they were there.

“But if it really hurts…”

Haruka rolled his eyes, blew on Rin’s neck as he squeezed his hand, still intertwined with him, tighter.

[ _Less_ ], he remarked, strangely pleased when Rin’s grip on his waist strengthened.

Rin choked out a strangled noise when Haruka finally resolved to move, brought him closer than gravity had already when Haruka’s lips found the specific spot between his neck and his clavicle. Haruka felt the sound against the kiss, nearly choked on his tongue as Rin freed his uninjured hand to make him draw back, just enough to find his mouth.

“…no idea,” he breathed out, bucking his hips to destabilise Haruka and switch their positions in a swift move. Red locks brushed Haruka’s cheeks, and it was only then that he noticed they felt warmer than the summer flooding the room― more than Rin, who was at enough temperature to create a star. “You don’t even know what you’re doing.”

Haruka raised an eyebrow, not needing telepathy to reply a sarcastic _as opposed to you_ Rin could see in his gaze.

“And what if someone comes?” Rin continued, to what Haruka shrugged. “You may not care, but I’m going to live here.”

[ _You are_ ], Haruka echoed, and Rin’s nibbles on his jaw were as triumphant as he felt.

 

 

 

 

 

In the end, Haruka stayed for dinner.

He met Matsuoka Gou at sunset; she still bore a striking resemblance with Rin, with her fiery hair and her crimson eyes. They even shared that feline elegance in their soundless movements― and perhaps it was her similarity to her brother what drew Haruka close in a way Sousuke’s sternness hadn’t been able to.

She was different from Rin, though― she was way more direct in her questions, her curiosity unwavering where her brother would have second-guessed himself.

Still, Haruka felt the slightest pang of uneasiness whenever he caught her or Sousuke glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, or the few times the couple looked at each other, ruby and turquoise lost in a conversation so private Haruka doubted he would have understood even if he had taken a peek inside their minds.

“It’s not telepathy,” Rin muttered, voice muffled against his hand. “Russell and Lori could do that, too.”

In spite of the demigod’s liveliness, soon it was clear Haruka wasn’t the only one who needed some rest after the madness that had started the day the hunters found the island. Rin had dozed off a bit before Gou arrived, and when they finished the desserts he was nearly lying on the table. His increasingly long blinks betrayed his inability to stay focused on Haruka as he scribbled the answers to Gou’s questions.

When Rin slumped into his folded forearms, though, the other three people in the room silently agreed the evening was over. Gou offered to take Haruka home in her car, in a tone that wasn’t a suggestion as much as a one-sided deal.

Haruka liked her better than Sousuke, so he didn’t complain.

Most of the trip was silent, only the hum of the engine filling the moonlit road. Haruka signed to guide her at every intersection, but it wasn’t until they reached the stretch skirting the coast that Gou opened her mouth.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier,” she apologised; the chirpiness she had displayed during dinner was gone. “Onii―… Rin told us who you are when he said you were coming; but in spite of what you may think that’s not why my husband and I were staring… Ah, talking about him, I know he can be harsh sometimes; please forgive him too.

“But you really resemble someone we used to know.”

The car entered a tunnel; the orange glow of the lights clung to the scene. Haruka didn’t know whether he wanted to ask the obvious question, but Gou answered it anyway, without taking her bright eyes off the road:

“Rin… Not this Rin, but my older brother… You look a lot like his lover.” Her pale fingers clutched the steering wheel tighter. “I’d like to say I don’t mind, but I do. Not because of you,” she quickly clarified, “but sometimes… Well, things are different now, but when I was your age it was strange to see two men holding hands in public, and quite frowned upon.” Gou sighed; Haruka, for his part, glared through the window as soon as the car got out of the tunnel.

He knew that. He might not care about society at large, but he didn’t live under a rock. It used to be worse, his grandmother had commented once; but Haruka had heard his classmates’ giggles because it was rumoured Satomi liked girls, had seen Kisumi struggling not to cry when his parents wanted him to transfer because he had a boyfriend.

He closed his eyes tightly, tried to pay attention to Gou:

“Because of that, my brother and that man got too caught up in each other.” Haruka’s fingers curled into fists. “Being disconnected from society is dangerous for us demigods,” Gou explained. “Both parts of our heritage are always at war with each other, and of course our father’s genes are stronger… The only way to keep our humanity is being with other humans. The more, the merrier, as they say…” Haruka swallowed down. “Because if a demigod reduces their perception of humanity to just one person… they have nothing when that someone leaves.”

Haruka glanced at the woman again, not sure he wanted to hear the rest of her story. It felt nearly like a confession and he didn’t even know whether he had the right to hear it, when judging by the carefulness Gou and Sousuke had put into erasing all trace of her brother’s life the present Rin had probably been spared the knowledge.

What he wanted didn’t matter, though, for Gou resumed speaking after a short silence.

“My brother’s lover died. Was killed, actually. Ganging up against a human is less dangerous than attacking a demigod… I guess it was supposed to be just a beating, but it got out of hand.” She exhaled a shaky laughter. “Doesn’t really matter… My brother found them the next day.”

A shudder ran down Haruka’s spine.

“I think it was the last rational thing he did, taking revenge,” Gou mused, as if to herself. “Afterwards there wasn’t enough humanity left in him to understand the others were innocent. Sousuke and I tried to bring him back, but he was too far gone by them― had been for months; of course the hunters wouldn’t spare his life…

“It was my fault.” Gou’s quiet words echoed in the silent car, thick with sorrow. “Sousuke always blamed that man alone, but deep down he knows just as well. I was… I am a demigoddess, and I couldn’t stop him.”

She wasn’t talking to Haruka anymore; her hand trembled when it flew to the gear stick.

Still, her words reminded him of the sirens’ comments not too long ago.

’ _He’s changing, and it’s your fault_ ,’ Coral had said the second time Haruka had seen her, her breath in his throat and her voice reaching every corner of his mind. _‘Leave before he loses himself_.’

Was that what she had meant, only a few weeks that felt like an eternity prior? Sirens disliked humans, so of course she hadn’t been pleased…

Haruka’s eyes widened in a realisation that felt like the most important secret he had ever had to keep.

“I guess I’m just wary of the situation,” Gou eventually went on, snapping Haruka out of his thoughts. Her voice was so thin Haruka feared it broke into tears. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I’m not as naïve as I was the first time…

“Please, don’t deprive him of his humanity.”

Haruka could see, in the light of the few lampposts scattered along the road and the reddish gleam of the dashboard, the wrinkles age and heartache had carved across her face― and he thought of his father and wished both he and Gou were able to let go of people that were no longer there.

 

 

 

 

 

Just like the day prior, when Haruka walked in his bedroom he was unable to fall asleep.

Unlike the day prior, though, the knots in his stomach didn’t come from bubbly excitement, or the budding realisation of wanting Rin in his life; not even the humid heat clinging to his skin was to blame. It was the angry snakes twisting and hissing and reminding him of Gou’s words. Rin’s dual nature was a double-edged sword― and Haruka asked the moon whether his fondness of the humans who had raised him would have been enough to keep Rin sane, to keep him _human_ , had they never met.

Even though it hadn’t been a scolding –even though Haruka had done nothing wrong–, blame lingered in the echo of Gou’s voice, a warning not to descend the same path the man who had taken over Rin’s world a lifetime prior had.

And the thing was, well.

Haruka wasn’t selfless. He often acted on impulse alone, his heart always one step ahead of logic and deductions to get a hold of whatever he wanted. He quietly got close to what he liked, shied away from things he dreaded, and he doubted he would have minded people’s whispers even if he had had a voice to make himself heard.

But that didn’t make him heartless― quite the contrary. No matter how hard he tried to not mind, to not get involved.

He cared so much it was bothersome.

Haruka rolled to the edge of the bed, grabbed his phone from the nightstand and typed a quick text for Rin:

 

_wanna go out tomorrow?_

 

And then he copied the question and sent it to Nagisa too.

 

 

 

 

 

The sky was painted in oranges and yellows and reds that set the clouds on fire when Haruka walked out of the cemetery with his grandmother and his father, conscientiously avoiding looking at the latter. Technically, Haruka’s arm was linked with his grandmother’s to ease her steps; but as the wind brought the echo of his father’s words before his mother’s grave, Haruka felt as if he could fall if he stopped clinging to her, in spite of not needing help to walk anymore.

 

(“ _Are you really planning to keep in touch with the demigod?_ ”

 _[_ Yes _], Haruka had replied, confident and defiant and refusing to take his gaze off his mother’s name._

 _Not knowing her thoughts about it wasn’t upsetting. If he lived in a world where he could ask, he wouldn’t even have that dilemma― for Rin wouldn’t be such an essential, complicated piece of the puzzle._ )

 

Haruka wasn’t surprised his father was disappointed, but unlike the man he was able to see the whole picture― or at least a more complete one, one where he could discern between _this_ Rin, _the other_ Rin and the ruthless darkness he resorted to when he felt cornered. Perhaps it was selfish of him, not wanting to let go of Rin no matter what; but there was no way Haruka’s answer back in the cemetery could have been negative without his insides bursting in flames.

Still, he breathed out a relieved sigh when his grandmother, always knowing what was best, broke the silence:

“Are you coming to see the fireworks with us, Ayumu?”

Haruka didn’t raise his gaze from his steps, focusing on setting his still sore foot on solid ground. It was practically healed and he didn’t want to injure it again.

He heard the predictable answer nonetheless:

“Tomorrow I’m leaving early, so no. I haven’t even packed yet.”

“Always so busy with work,” the woman grumbled, and her childish whine curved Haruka’s lips into the smallest smile. “Obon is a time to spend with your family.”

“I just accompanied you both to visit Aoi… Besides, Haruka will feel better when I leave, won’t he?”

Haruka kicked a small stone in the path aside and pushed his free hand further inside his pocket, fingers tightening around his keys.

When he was little, he used to hope for his father to spend more time home, but Obon was the only festivity Nanase Ayumu religiously spent at Iwatobi. Every year, as he walked into the sea to place a candle-lit lantern on the water, Haruka wished his father’s sorrow left with the thousands of lights drifting towards the horizon; and every year, when the man ran away the morning after the fireworks display, he resigned himself to that never happening.

Haruka was around eleven when he realised wishing was useless.

But now, aged eighteen, Haruka couldn’t help but hope something had changed. That the end of Rin’s exile had given everyone some closure, that his father would realise Haruka wasn’t his mother and stop running away at last.

Perhaps then, if Nanase Ayumu apologised for putting his personal revenge before his duty and his son’s safety, Haruka would be able to forgive him.

He and his grandmother bid the man farewell at the bottom of the stone stairs that led home before resuming their way to the beach, the silence between them a bit tense but not uncomfortable. By the time Haruka helped his grandmother to climb down the stairs leading to the beach, the sun was but a burning line drowning in the sea, the first stars already twinkling in the darkening sky.

Haruka glanced around, but there was no colour alluring enough to catch his attention; he fished his phone from his pocket, found six texts from his friends: Makoto would most likely be late because his siblings were fighting over a lantern, Nagisa had got distracted taking pics of an aquarium-themed restaurant and sending them to Haruka and judging by Rei’s technological silence he was probably struggling to drag Nagisa to the beach before the display started. There were no news from Rin, either; Haruka knew he was the one who had arrived sooner, but he found himself biting down onto his lower lip to supress a pout.

“Is Rin coming?”

Haruka turned towards his grandmother, eyebrows raised. He had grown taller than her when he was about fourteen, and now the old woman barely reached his shoulders; for an outsider her concern might appear endearing, but she was openly teasing Haruka. She smiled at his nod, as if he had just given himself away.

“Did you figure out telepathy with him?” she asked after a couple of seconds, now sincerely curious.

Haruka took his time to put his thoughts in order before answering.

[ _It’s not because he’s a demigod_ ], he confided. While he hadn’t been interested in prying in Gou’s mind, it wasn’t the vastness of its aura what distinguished it from Rin’s. It was just as strong, but while his was full of shadows and whispers and a slowly fading darkness hers was a luminous place, free from the despair Haruka had at first assumed inherent to demigods. [ _But now it hurts less… I think he’s a bit happier._ ]

His grandmother hummed. “I’m glad to hear that.”

A glimpse of crimson zigzagging among the crowd down the stairs caught Haruka’s attention before he could reply to his grandmother; not because it was loud, but because people seemed confused at the stealthy figure making his way between them, too quick to be discerned.

Rin stopped dead in his tracks before Haruka, pushed red locks off his face as he struggled to catch his breath. He no longer wore the sling, but judging by the way he kept his right arm pressed to his side the gunshot wound still hurt.

Still, there was something about him that gave his whole presence vividness, a sense that he was completely real.

“Good evening,” he greeted, but he was looking around rather than at Haruka.

“I guess you are Rin.” Rin straightened up at Haruka’s grandmother’s voice, bit the insides of his cheeks as she stepped forward, looking the demigod up and down.

«She’s my grandmother», Haruka clarified at Rin’s unease. «He’s Rin», he told the woman, who nodded in satisfaction.

Rin shifted his weight from one foot to the other; it occurred to Haruka that he had never really had to care about making a good impression until a couple of days prior.

“Pleased to meet you, uh… Nanase-san?” he tried. The tension coiling in his shoulders relinquished its grip a bit when the woman nodded. “Haru looks a lot like you.”

It wasn’t often that Haruka heard he resembled any relative other than his late mother. His grandmother’s eyes narrowed when she smiled, pleased by the remark.

“The circumstances leading to our meeting are uncommon, to say the least,” she commented, “but if my grandson has taken a liking to you, it’s not my place to object. I can only trust his judgement.”

“…Except for food.” Haruka could barely contain a snort of laughter when Rin realised he had said those words aloud, but his grandmother’s grin only grew.

“I can’t argue with that… I hope you enjoy the fireworks, Rin.”

“Thank you… Ah, but about that…”

«We’re going to look for the others». Partly amused, partly frustrated at Rin’s wariness, Haruka grabbed his wrist and guided him towards the stairs, out of his grandmother’s field of view. «She doesn’t bite».

Rin huffed. “I know… I mean, she looks nicer than your dad,” he explained; Haruka rolled his eyes. As if that were hard. “But she gives off the same vibes as you, only without being a dork.”

«Have you ever taken a look in the mirror?» Haruka snapped back, not as offended as he should have been.

Rin frowned, took a couple of seconds to decipher the sign for _mirror_.

“Sure, Mr. Won’t-Say-My-Name-Out-Of-Spite.” But the edge in his words was playful. “By the way, did you…” He glanced aside. “I mean, does she know…?”

Haruka blinked, expectant, watched as heat piled up in Rin’s cheeks.

“You know, about us… That we… We’re…”

«Probably». Rin choked out a mortified noise. «So what?»

Rin stepped aside to let a couple walk towards the shore. “Nothing.”

Haruka was about to grab Rin’s hand to get out of the beach –not to look for his friends as much as to get away from the people gathering to watch the procession of lanterns–, but a voice that was as familiar as it was irritating cut through the newborn night.

“Don’t let him escape, Haru!” Kisumi climbed down two steps at a time until he reached them, light hair dishevelled. “You are supposed to stay with me while you’re out,” he complained, glaring at Rin.

Rin clicked his tongue, the pink in his cheeks subduing slowly.

“Come on, you’re not even a hunter.”

“I aspire to be one,” Kisumi insisted, “and if something goes wrong that’ll never happen… I’m on probation too, you know?”

Haruka’s gaze hopped from one to the other, both impressed and annoyed at how at ease Rin looked around Kisumi, in spite of their roles.

«Why is he here?» he asked, though.

The two teenagers looked at him. Kisumi didn’t know sign language, but he got the gist of the message when Haruka pointed at him with an accusatory index.

“I’m in charge of watching over Rin,” he explained, straightening up in pride, “since today marks a critical step in his process of integration to society… Or something like that, I didn’t read the whole document.”

It was only then that Haruka realised Rin wasn’t wearing the golden bracelet anymore. The rolled-up sleeves of his shirt brushed the place where the seemingly innocent accessory had been for the latest days.

“I didn’t kill anyone even when your friends shot me,” he grumbled, “what makes you think I will now?”

“Nothing, but if you leave I’ll be alone and get bored.”

Haruka bit down a smile, reluctantly admitting that maybe Kisumi’s presence wasn’t that bad.

 

 

 

 

 

Once Makoto, Rei and Nagisa arrived (the latter with around fifty photographs of the aquarium-themed restaurant saved in his phone, which he spent ten minutes showing to the others), Haruka didn’t mind Kisumi as much. His classmate only shot the demigod a glance every now and then, more focused on his conversation with Makoto― which perhaps bothered Haruka a little, but mostly confused him. Other than their extroverted nature, Makoto and Kisumi hardly had any common traits; and yet their friendship somehow worked.

After Haruka’s interest for the restaurant vanished, though, Nagisa’s curiosity about Rin reached its peak; Rei was visibly interested, but he opted to watch from the sidelines as Nagisa bombarded the demigod with questions that ranged from the extent of his power to his favourite ice cream flavour.

“I can’t create worlds,” Rin said, nearly laughing. “I’m not a god… But I’m able to create bits of worlds, like islands or mountains. Takes a lot of effort, though.”

“Are your powers bound to the principle of matter conservation?” Rei chimed in, eyes bright.

“The _what_?” Rin glanced at Haruka for help, but Haruka only shrugged― Rin had stopped studying at twelve, he had a lot of work ahead if he wanted to catch up.

“I mean… Can you create things out of nothing, or do you transform existing matter like humans?”

Rin started shrugging, halted with a grimace as his hand flew to the wound in his upper arm.

“I have no idea.” He scratched at his chin, pensive. “But we could try some day.”

Nagisa wasn’t interested in the physics of magic, though.

“Is it true that you have a dragon?”

“Yeah, but…”

“That’s so cool!” Nagisa exclaimed. “Will you let me pet it?”

Rin’s smile grew a bit tense. “If he lets you.”

“The fireworks are about to start,” Makoto announced, checking his phone. He looked more comfortable around Rin than he had when he had accompanied Haruka to the hospital, luckily.

Rei scrunched up his nose. “It’s getting crowded…”

“What is important is we can see the display,” Nagisa hummed, seemingly unaware of his friend’s problem.

But Rei was right. They couldn’t have left the beach had they wanted to; now it was impossible to wade through the mass of people without elbowing innocent bystanders on one’s way. Haruka stood on his tiptoes once the crowd pushed them against the wall separating the beach from the street, a couple of metres above, but he couldn’t spot his grandmother.

He nearly jumped when Rin’s hand curled around his, his voice hot in his ear:

“She’s close to the cliff. Your grandma.”

Haruka gave him an incredulous look, but upon another glance he realised Rin was right. Then he smiled, leant his back against the demigod’s chest; it had been at the other side of that cliff where he had seen Rin’s human form for the first time.

Rin spoke before Haruka shaped the thought into words in his mind, though:

“Is it me or people are looking our way?”

Haruka turned towards him, eyebrows arched in disbelief; but Rin looked too uneasy to be joking.

[ _Of course they’re looking._ ] And he stopped himself before admitting he had been stealing glances at him all evening, too. [ _You stand out._ ]

Rin caught his lower lip between his teeth, brows furrowed.

“Do I?”

Haruka nodded, but looked towards Makoto to avoid having to answer to the predictable follow-up question. It would involve explaining all the ways Rin was impossible to stop looking at and he was pretty sure most of them weren’t familiar to most of the strangers staring.

Regardless of his always striking appearance, that day Rin seemed harder to look away from than usual; maybe it were his new clothes, the tight jeans and shirt over his tank top, or that his hair was shorter and cleaner, brighter from properly washing it instead of diving in salt water― something about him looked wild again, untamed in a way the golden bracelet had kept subdued for the latest days.

And it wasn’t as if Rin didn’t know Haruka often lost himself in though while staring at his sharp features; but he liked teasing him (as if he were the only one), and they were no longer alone in an island, where they could do whatever they wanted without caring about witnesses.

Haruka didn’t particularly mind people, but judging by the residual stiffness in Rin’s posture he did.

[ _Not in a bad way_ ], he remarked.

Rin arched his eyebrows, but there were other things in his mind.

“…You’re going to laugh,” he predicted, “but I’d rather know… What―”

Haruka didn’t hear the rest of the question; a whistle rose to the sky and died in a loud bang above their heads. He didn’t flinch at the noise, though, but rather at the grip tightening around his hand as a collective _oooh_ filled the beach.

The light above made Rin’s hair pale, but the demigod didn’t notice― he frantically looked around, eyes wide as he caught his lower lip in a vicious bite. Haruka saw his gasp at the following detonations, but the noises reverberating and merging into a warm glow that wrapped all of Iwatobi drowned it out.

[ _It’s fine_ ], he tried, but he knew it wasn’t believable― the fear in Rin’s expression seeped in his own thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” Makoto’s yell was too loud in Haruka’s ear; the others had noticed Rin’s distress, too. Rei and Nagisa peeked over Makoto’s shoulder, visibly concerned. “Ah, Rin, are you okay?”

The demigod moved his lips, but his words didn’t reach Haruka― and it occurred to Haruka that perhaps that was the problem.

Rin’s ears could detect the faintest sounds; the deafening display must be ten times louder for him. He didn’t look up like the people around him, shrinking into himself like a cornered animal instead.

[ _It’s just the fireworks!_ ] Haruka insisted, scratching at Rin’s hand in an attempt to free his fingers from the crushing grasp.

And he didn’t know whether it was his own apprehension or Rin’s terror what made his thoughts louder than the explosions, because it felt too reminiscent of the sunset where he had lost control to defend himself.

[ _…Rin._ ] Haruka grimaced at the panic clouding the demigod’s judgement, but he didn’t waver. [ _My hand._ ]

Rin let go so quickly for a second Haruka was disoriented; but before he could as much as sign at him the demigod pushed among the crowd, elbowed his way to the concrete stairs to flee from the beach.

“What happened?” Nagisa nearly yelled to make himself heard above the noises of the display.

Behind him, Kisumi’s lips took the shape of a profanity when the path Rin had briefly opened closed through the mass of people, trapping them there.

«Rin got scared», Haruka summarised, his hand numb.

“Of fireworks?” Rei raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make sense; he’s a demigod, why would he…?”

“We have to find him,” Kisumi intervened, seemingly done with his self-scolding. “If he ends up hurting someone, my failed career will be the least of our problems.”

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka didn’t usually lie. He considered it a waste of time an effort― it wasn’t just a falsehood said in the spur of a moment, afterwards one had to be careful to keep the farce and remember who thought what.

However, he often kept quiet. Most people never asked, so he saw no reason to answer them.

The last night of Obon, unlike what his friends were probably doing, Haruka wasn’t aimlessly running through the crowd to look for Rin.

He had as much idea as them about where Rin might have gone, but even among the people swarming around Haruka the demigod’s aura was greater and louder, a whirlwind of fear and confusion that spread above the crowd so painfully it was a miracle nobody else noticed. Haruka elbowed his way among them, guided by Rin’s growing distress.

A sigh left his lips when he finally got outside the crew, but the cool midsummer night wasn’t relieving― it wouldn’t until he found Rin and made sure he didn’t lose control again.

If only the fireworks _shut up_.

The noise in his head led Haruka towards the road Gou had driven him home along the night prior, the one skirting the coastline; his foot hurt from the effort, but he walked quickly along a curve that circled a hill where one could hide from the fireworks, lighting up the tips of his fingers when he reached a section without lampposts.

The darkness weakened against the light in his fingertips, but beneath the clouds hiding the moon it was still too dense to see further than one metre ahead. The sea below was scattered with the lanterns floating among the waves, but the candles’ brightness didn’t reach up the cliff. And as Haruka advanced, holding his breath against the pulse throbbing in his throat, he realised Rin was in the middle of it, on the sheltered bench of a bus stop, covering his ears.

The light in Haruka’s hands reflected in his red eyes when he looked up.

“…Haru?” he asked, even though he didn’t even need the light to know.

Haruka still nodded, covered the distance between them in a couple of strides and sat down next to him.

[ _I didn’t know you were scared of fireworks._ ]

Rin closed his eyes, seemingly not minding Haruka’s voice as long as it didn’t came through his ears.

“That’s just a fancy way to say explosions,” he grumbled, pressing his palms against the sides of his head harder. His fingers tangled with red locks, pulled at them. “I didn’t know humans liked noise that much.”

Haruka frowned.

[ _Don’t you know what they are?_ ]

When Rin looked up, puzzled, Haruka set the hand that still had imprints of fingers carved on his shoulder. It unravelled the tension in him, a little, and after a couple of seconds Rin hesitantly uncovered his ears and grabbed it.

He followed Haruka in slow steps, his trembling touch warm and reassuring― far from the shadow that fed on sunlight. They retraced their steps, walked along the empty road until they bordered the hill, just in time to see the last flowers of fire blooming in the sky, red and white and blue petals that withered in seconds and sprinkled burning shards on the sea covered in lanterns.

Haruka had no interest in the display, though. He walked backwards as he guided Rin to the crash barrier, as close to the cliff as they could get, saw the light reflecting in his awestruck expression when the moonlight pierced through the thinnest part of the cloud.

“Fireworks…” Rin mumbled, and the lights in the sky extinguished but his eyes devoured them like twin flames. The sea breeze blew red locks off his face, lips trembling just barely when his gaze shifted away from the night, towards Haruka― whose open mouth and wide eyes probably mirrored Rin’s, for entirely different reasons. “That… makes more sense.”

Haruka tried to smile, but he had to swallow his heart back to his chest first.

[ _Better?_ ]

Rin nodded, looked down at the glowing fingers intertwined with his.

“I… I’m sorry.” He squeezed Haruka’s hand, now gently. “I didn’t think, and I―… There were so many people, I didn’t want them to be close if I transformed.”

Haruka took a step towards him, away from the cliff.

[ _You didn’t_ ], he remarked. [ _You wouldn’t._ ]

Rin glanced up.

“You don’t know that,” he argued. “And you still came…”

[ _I told you_ ], Haruka replied, impatience seeping in his words. [ _Yesterday._ ]

But Rin only huffed, unfazed. “Doesn’t it scare you?” Haruka shook his head. “Why do I even _ask_. You have no sense of self-preservation; you were an asshole from the beginning.”

Haruka raised an eyebrow. [ _Thanks._ ]

“I mean it!” Rin insisted, but for some reason Haruka didn’t register his stubbornness as a confirmation of the insult. “I thought you’d be afraid of me, all the more when I realised who you were, but you didn’t…

“I, I was sort of expecting you to remember what I am and act like everyone else.” With the admission came a small movement of Rin’s foot, as if he had considered covering the distance between Haruka and him for the briefest second. “But you never did! And I didn’t… I still don’t understand― why you, out of all people…”

Haruka looked down, at the light his fingers shed on Rin’s skin, before staring into the demigod’s bright eyes again.

[ _You don’t scare me_ ], he declared, and for a second he feared Rin did something dangerous out of his seemingly instinctive need to prove Haruka’s every belief wrong. [ _Not after knowing who you are._ ]

This time, Rin took a step towards Haruka without hesitation. His thumb, up until that point drawing circles on the back of a reddened hand, halted as he stopped only a couple of centimetres away from Haruka.

“Why?”

A chime jingled somewhere in the distance, but Haruka was lost in Rin’s eyes. He didn’t even flinch when the demigod’s forehead leant against his, careful not to touch his wound.

[ _All these years, I was waiting for you._ ]

And Haruka felt the warmth in Rin’s cheeks, and the millisecond where he considered looking away and the triumph in the nervous laughter he breathed against Haruka’s lips.

“Maybe I was looking for you, then.”

Haruka let go of Rin’s hand, arms sneaking around the demigod’s waist. And he couldn’t think of a proper reply, because there was no clever retort to Rin’s words, no response to outsmart him― so he blurted out what had made his steps lighter in spite of his sprained ankle for the past days.

[ _Coral said you love me._ ]

Rin’s reaction wasn’t what he had expected― or what he would have, had he thought about it at all. His eyes widened, his entire form tense and vulnerable and inexplicably more scared than just a couple of minutes prior, beneath the fireworks.

“I, uh.” He swallowed down, drew back. “I didn’t―… Well, I just… I…” He groaned, palms landing on Haruka’s chest to keep his distance. “I _hate_ sirens! You can’t trust them with anything…”

Regret clenched a fist around Haruka’s stomach. He hadn’t thought about how to say it, much less about what he might cause― he had acted, once more, on his own wishes, without considering anyone else’s. Admitting such vulnerabilities was so hard, and Haruka had just thrown Rin’s efforts to his face.

But even as he struggled not to freak out, Rin’s mind was less of a mess. He wasn’t on the run anymore and there was no end threatening to burn down the small castles they were learning to build.

[ _It’s okay_ ], Haruka managed before Rin kept running away. [ _It is_ ], he assured when Rin opened his mouth to argue.

He waited as Rin’s hands crawled up his shoulders and the sides of his throat, as hesitant fingers cradled his face. Haruka kept still until Rin made it clear he wasn’t going to keep retreating, until their noses touched and a hopeful smile crashed against his lips, to do it the best he could:

[ _I love you, too._ ]

 

 

 

 

 

Fate is a strange thing.

Not omniscient, not a god; imperfect in a way neither humans nor hybrids understand. Made of details nobody quite knows where to put or how to make sense of.

Sometimes, it turns out well.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this, we reached the end of the story! It was both a wild ride and a pleasure, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did while writing.
> 
> And now... what did you think about it? Did you like the end of the story? How about Gou and Sousuke? Tell me! ^^

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm @nenufair on both tumblr and twitter and you can hit me up anytime]


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